Viper's Kiss
by Katrina Lonestar
Summary: They're all grown up and still hate each other. Hermione's been having strange dreams, and Draco is, well, Draco is Draco. Can they erase their pasts and face their futures? T for violence and possible bad language in future chapters.
1. Strangers

**Disclaimer: I own no part of the Harry Potter series, nor did I write or edit it. That honor goes to the lovely and talented J.K. Rowling. However any non -canon locations such as the Café are mine, as are the houses at the Salem Witches' Institute. The personalities of any characters not appearing in the books are also my creation.  
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**Author's Note: Hermione gets violent in this chapter. And I don't speak French, so the Café Du Locke has no real meaning as titles go. **

_Draco_

I woke to rain tapping on my windows. The silk sheets tangled around me as I sat up, pushing the dark green blanket off. I ran one hand through my blonde hair.

_Merlin's beard, what time is it?_ I thought. The diffused light outside gave no hint as to the hour, except that I knew it was daylight. I kept no clock in my room, trusting to the house elves to wake me up. _They'll be punishing themselves for the next week when I get my hands on them._

I stood, adjusting my boxers more comfortably and picked up my wand. I muttered the spell that would bring a clock to me under my breath. A large, gaudy gold clock appeared. I checked the silver hands. 12:15. _What? A Malfoy does NOT sleep late. _Just then a house elf Apparated into the room.

"Master Malfoy, you're awake!" It croaked in a low voice. I recognized this elf as Barsley, the oldest elf in the Manor. "Get dressed, you have an appointment in half an hour!" It offered me my calendar.

'May 1st, Lunch meet. W/ Blaise.' Today's date read. "Hell's bells!" I said. It was a favorite Muggle term of mine, picked up from a store clerk at a bookstore where my mother used to do business. "Get out, get out!" I ordered the house elf. He disappeared with a loud crack as I ran to the shower.

One shower and a long hairstyling session later, I was out the door and on the way to the Café Du Locke for my meeting with Blaise.

I Apparated just outside the wards of Malfoy Manor and appeared about a mile from the café. I frowned. I did not usually undershoot when Apparating. I didn't want to try again and overshoot, or worse Splinch myself in haste. I ran instead. I miraculously avoided the Muggles passing by and made it to the Café on time, albeit slightly out of breath.

The Café Du Locke was a stately white building. The cursive writing on the sign that declared it a café was blue, as were the door and curtains. A bell chimed pleasantly as I opened the door. A young woman with flaming red hair and a nametag bearing the name Audrey stood at the counter. Abstract paintings were hung on the white walls. The tablecloths on the intimate round tables were blue. Large fluorescent lamps in the ceiling gave the place a cheery air. I ignored the décor entirely and walked straight up to Audrey, cutting in front of the line of customers picking up their coffee.

"Slytherin," I said. Aubrey flashed me a wide smile.

"Granted," she said. A green door with a silver knob appeared in the wall. The customers didn't even blink. The Café served only wizards and witches. The front section was for the non-Hogwarts patrons and the wizards who preferred a more mundane setting. To the Muggle eye, I imagined the Café looked like a boarded up building. It worked on an odd kind of magic. It was basically a Fidelius charm that included all magical folk. The charm checked for magic and let you in. Hags, goblins and other magical creatures had their own room away from the eye of the public.

I turned the knob and opened the green door onto a dimly lit room almost entirely different from the main area of the Café. The walls here were painted dark green. A portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung above the counter, which was manned by another young witch. She had cropped black hair, a silver nose piercing and a haughty expression. I recognized her before I read her nametag. It was Pansy Parkinson's older sister, Vanessa.

The tables here didn't have tablecloths, instead they were metallic looking and a silver snake curled around the edge of each one, matching the high backed silver chairs with green silk cushions. The counter had a row of green stools with silver snakes curled around the legs. The only light in the room came from greenish glowing orbs floating high on the ceiling. I greeted several people I knew, bought a black coffee from Vanessa and went to the table where I knew Blaise would be sitting, in the back right corner, which was almost entirely darkened.

"Afternoon, Zabini," I said, sitting down in the chair on the left.

"Malfoy," a deep voice drawled. "You're looking flushed today." Blaise sounded worried.

"I had to run part of the way here," I said, sipping my coffee.

"Are you sure you weren't just talking to _Vanessa_?" I realized Blaise was teasing me. He leaned forward on his elbows and poured sugar into his coffee. Blaise took his coffee with milk and sugar, a lot of sugar. He told me once it was because he kept such mean company that he needed something sweet. "She 's being very nice today." He rolled the 'r', somehow making the word sound dirty.

"Blaise, don't project your fantasies on me. Just because you want to shag Vanessa Parkinson doesn't mean we all do," I reprimanded him in the same teasing tone. He gulped his coffee.

"You wound me, sir," he said, adopting the voice of Sir Cadmus, a painting we had both hated at Hogwarts. "I only want to set you up with a girl." He raised his eyebrows and looked past me at Vanessa.

We talked for a while, about Blaise's job at the Ministry and mine at International Magical Supply. I worked as an Overseas Apparation Deliverer. I took the products we made, like broomsticks and cauldrons, to people who ordered them in America or Australia. Not many people at the company could Apparate properly over the ocean, so I was paid quite highly. We talked about the weather and stupid Muggles, and anything else that popped into our heads, really. I left at 1:30, and Apparated back to the Manor without any problems. I put on a cloak and a black shirt, tied my shoulder length hair back and went to work. I worked odd hours, as the company also dealt in illegal products that had to be delivered carefully. Today, however, I was just delivering legal supplies. A shipment of Potions supplies went to the Salem Witches' Institute in America, some books to the U.S. branch of Flourish and Blott's and magical rubber gloves to St. Mungo's in Boston. My checklist actually said 'Magical Rubber Gloves, 3 crates, black'. I used an Undetectable Extension Charm on a black tote bag, put my items into it, and turned on my heel into lung-crushing darkness.

The Salem Witches' Institute wasn't hard to find. I followed the smell of perfume to a set of large gates of the sort you might find at a graveyard. Behind them a tall, imposing castle rose. I went through and straight to the Potions classroom, which was in a high tower with a large window. I sniffed. _Potions should really be in the dungeon._ I didn't bother to knock on the door. The professor was supposed to know I was coming, and if not I would be a pleasant surprise.

The Potions Mistress at Salem was a short, heavy witch with blonde ringlets. She was teaching a class of 7th years who were all wearing green and stirring cauldrons. The woman sat at a large desk with a blackboard behind it. She looked up from her papers when I came in. The woman stared blankly for a moment, and then seemed to recognize me.

"Malfoy! I was wondering when you'd get here. Just in time for the 3rd year Nycteris girls next. That's, uh, Ravenclaw in Hogwarts terms," she gushed. I gave her a frosty smile. _Why are teachers here always hysterical?_ The girls looked up.

"Oh, is this the delivery boy?" One girl with a round face asked.

"Took him long enough," added an identical girl from across the room.

"He looks odd, too," said a third who looked exactly the same as the other two. _How many of them are there?_ All three of them broke into identical high -pitched laughter.

"Girls, be nice," the teacher admonished them in a matronly tone. "Malfoy, these are the Juno-that is, Slytherin-girls. They're normally quite friendly, but it's been a long day." She shot a glance that somehow encompassed all three triplets. They gave identical smirks that would have made Blaise proud. I took the crate from my bag and set it down in the corner of the room.

"They are very much like Slytherins. But girls," I turned to them. "When insulting a stranger, attempt to be classier. 'Odd' doesn't sting me. Put some force into it, okay?" I spoke kindly, trying not to smirk. "Goodbye, then." I left the room. On to Flourish and Blotts. The girls stared in awe as I left.

"What a Juno!" One of the triplets muttered to the girl next to her.

"A real Juno, wow. He's really something," a girl who wasn't a triplet said.

I smirked to myself. _All in a day's work for Draco Malfoy._

The Flourish and Blott's delivery went uneventfully. I handed the books to a quiet old man named Stuart, who waved his wand and put them all on the shelves.

At St. Mungo's, I had to go through security to make sure I wasn't insane or delivering drugs. They sent me to the storeroom, a vast grey place stacked floor to ceiling with supplies. I marveled at the names on some of the crates:

WART HEALING MANDRAKE POWDER 

DELUSIONAL COUGH SYRUP, POTENT

KAPPA THUMBS

PATIENT SMOCKS, EXTRA LARGE

ALICE IN WONDERLAND CAKE

_Alice in Wonderland cake? What could they possibly mean by that?_ I laughed and went out.

On my way out I bumped into a witch and made her fall down. She was wearing street clothes, but had the uniform of a Healer in a plastic shopping bag she carried with her.

"Oh, sorry!" She exclaimed. I blinked at her accent. She wasn't American. In fact, I knew that voice. As I helped her up I looked at her more closely. She was short, with dark eyes and curly brown hair that puffed up immensely and had honey colored highlights. She had a pleasant freckled face and fair skin.

"Granger?" I said, recognizing her at last. I pulled her back up and wiped my hands on my cloak. _Mudblood. What scum. _

"Malfoy?" Her brown eyes widened. "What are you doing _here_?" She sounded almost angry.

"My job brings me here," I replied, speaking as coldly as possible. "And _you_?"

"I worked here." She pointed to St. Mungo's behind me. Her tone was somehow both exactly like mine and entirely different. There was something soft in it that would never be found in the voice of a Malfoy. "Today was my last day. It _was_ a good day." Granger narrowed her eyes at me in a gesture that reminded me of my mother.

"It's not my fault you were in my way," I pointed out. Her entire stance changed. She looked like she was ready for a fight. The last time I had seen her in that pose, I had left with a stinging handprint on my cheek in 3rd year.

"_You_ don't look where you're going!" She crossed her arms, her shopping bag swinging.

"_I_ have places to be. You, however, were standing outside looking blank." I kept my tone as rational as possible, resisting the urge to pull out my wand and hex the filthy mudblood into oblivion. _A Malfoy is always calm._ She, however had no such self-restraint. Granger hit me full in the head with the shopping bag, which definitely had shoes in it. Stiletto heels, if I wasn't mistaken.

"Filthy mudblood!" I exclaimed, holding my head where she had hit me. "How dare you?"

"_How dare I? How DARE I?" _She shrieked, her voice losing all traces of softness. "How dare _YOU_, you coward!" I raised my fist to strike her. She blocked me efficiently and continued to scream. "You were too scared to join us in the war!" She hit me in the stomach with her shopping bag. I doubled over in pain. "You were too scared to stay with Voldemort. You never fought on the front lines! YOU HAD TO BE RESCUED TWICE!" She was so loud now that people were gathering to watch our fight. _A Malfoy is always courteous._

"FILTHY MUDBLOOD!" I yelled at her, getting back up and grabbing her right arm, making her drop her shopping bag. "YOU _WILL NOT CALL ME COWARD!_" My vision had turned red. I kicked her leg out from under her and pulled her back up hard enough that I think I dislocated her shoulder joint. She scowled and reached to punch me with her left hand.

"YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A SNIVELING FERRET!" She hit me hard in the nose. I had to loosen my grip on her. The mudblood kneed me in the groin and picked up her shopping bag. "A sniveling, bouncing ferret." She spat the last words into my face quietly as I keeled over. _A Malfoy always wins._ I gave a dark chuckle at the thought as the witch walked away, limping slightly.

Blood trickled from my nose and I ached everywhere. I couldn't pass out. I was too strong for that. This was worse than any Cruciactus Curse, because I had been humiliated by a mudblood Gryffindor. Two healers came running out from St. Mungo's and brought me back in. Under the effects of several calming droughts, I finally fell asleep.

_Hermione_

I was standing outside, enjoying the fall air and taking in the streets on my last day in America. I clutched my St. Mungo's uniform and the heels one of the other Healers had given me as a present in a shopping bag in one hand. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

A tall blonde wizard rammed into me. He had his hair tied back and nice clothes. I placed him around 22, about my age. The wizard had a slight tan and aristocratic features, as well as warm gray eyes. He was carrying a black tote bag with him. He helped me back up as I apologized. His gray eyes narrowed, suddenly full of ice.

"Granger?" It was an accusation. He had a familiar voice and I suddenly recognized his smirk. _Malfoy._

I don't know what happened after that. I remember my vision clouding, Malfoy hitting my leg and yanking my arm, and then I was limping away while he writhed in agony on the ground. _Walking away from a hospital when you're wounded. Nice one, Hermione,_ I chided myself.

As soon as I was away from the crowd I Apparated back to my apartment. I noticed the blood under my nails as I put down my bag and took off my coat using my left arm, and immediately went to go wash it off.

I healed myself with magic, wincing at the pain as my right shoulder popped itself back into place and my knee fixed itself. I sat down on the couch and took deep breaths, looking out the window. It was raining that afternoon, a soft pleasant sort of rain. After a few minutes I took out my dog -eared copy of The Goblin Market and began to read.

When I looked up again it was dark and the rain had stopped. I took out my wand and gave it a flick. The curtains shut and the light went on. I stood up slowly and went to the phone. _Chinese food sounds good._ _I don't feel like cooking._ I dialed the number and ordered.

It was 20 minutes later, halfway through a plate of sesame chicken that I realized what I had done. _I hurt another living person. Badly, too. But, it was Malfoy. Does that make it okay? No, of course not, but he insulted me. That stupid coward._ I angrily ripped the napkin on my lap to shreds in my hands. I finished my food, drank a cup of tea and decided just to go to bed. _Back to the U.K. tomorrow...I'll see Ginny and Luna again, and I'll be able to sleep in my own house instead of this little apartment._ I flicked my wand again and the lights went off. I settled into the bed right next to the table and couch and fell quickly to sleep.

**A pair of gray eyes appears in the dark. I am shouting curses at the person, who has long hair and nice clothing, though his face is mostly in shadow. He smirks and steps back. Suddenly everything is light. We are in my Uncle Alf's hayfield. I can feel the long grass tickling my ankles. I lie down in it and roll around like I did as a child. My blue sundress is spread around me. I can see the farmhouse in the distance. I stand up and run to it, my bare feet delighting in the rich brown dirt. **

**I am close enough to see my family through the large picture window when I hear him behind me.**

"**Filthy mudblood," a voice drawls. I turn to see the long- haired person from before.**

**He raises his wand. "This won't hurt a bit," he says, smirking again. "Avada Kedavra." The spell hits the house, not me. It disintegrates, taking the field and my family with it. I am once again alone in the dark. I light my wand and look around to see my apartment. I relax and turn to the bed.**

**He's lying in it, face still in shadow. "Granger, come to bed," he drawls invitingly. I obey and crawl in next to him. He rolls over to face me. "Turn off that light." I whisper the spell and the room goes dark. I don't sleep. He puts his arms around me.**

"**Naughty, naughty little mudblood. Dreaming about me like this," he whispers huskily in my ear. **

"**Dreaming?" I mumble. **

"**Yes, Granger. This is a dream." I feel him smirk against my ear. "You may as well make the best of it." He draws closer.**

**I pull away a little bit, although I can't go very far in the circle of his arms. "Please," I whisper back, not knowing entirely what I mean. He smirks again.**

"**Of course." He moves one arm from me and makes a slashing motion in the dark. The curtains open and I can see his face clearly at last in the dawn light.**

"**Malfoy," I say. **

I woke to birds chirping, the name still hovering on my lips. I was on the very edge of the bed, positioned as if to make room for another person. I shuddered. _I definitely need to see Luna. She'd know what that freakish dream meant._

I made a cup of coffee with no sugar and oodles of milk. It was sunny outside and a light breeze was blowing. I checked my watch. 7:15. I packed my clothes by magic and put the rent on the table. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and Apparated.

I came out in the hills near Luna's house. I frowned. _That's not where I wanted to go! At least I made it across the ocean in one piece! I must have been thinking about that icky dream._ I turned again and this time came out at the door to my house.

It was quiet and clean, just the way I left it. I unpacked quickly and sat down in my favorite chair. Pulling out parchment and a quill I made a list of the things I needed to do today. My lists were always extremely detailed. I had a visit with Luna planned today, I needed to go pick up my mail at 6 PM, I had to check in at the café where I would be working for the next few weeks, and I had to go shopping for food. I would visit Ginny tomorrow. She was still in France with Harry and wouldn't return until then.

I looked down at my outfit and laughed. I was still in my pajamas! I tied back my hair, quickly changed into jeans and a black V- neck, put my wand in my pocket and Apparated back to the hills.

Luna's father opened the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Lovegood!" He smiled at me, showing a mouth of chipped teeth. I smiled brightly back.

"Luna's excited to see you," he said, leading me inside. "She's in the kitchen." I thanked him and went through to the brightly painted round kitchen where Luna was sitting.

"'Mione!" She exclaimed, standing to hug me. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Hi, Luna," I said. We sat back down at the table. "How are you?"

We talked for a while. She frowned slightly when I described my dream.

"We should break that into parts. That first bit with the farmhouse probably suggests you miss your childhood and family. You as a child see the shadowed person as a threat to your family, perhaps a step parent or troublesome aunt. That also explains the destruction of your house. I think you probably blame someone for destroying your family. That's a fairly common dream." Luna paused for breath

It's the second part that worries me," she said.

I grimaced at her accurate reading. My Aunt Louise had been a gossip and a liar and had always meddled in other people's business. She had single handedly ripped my family to shreds.

Luna continued. "A dream involving familiar settings would normally imply a level of comfort with your self and surroundings, but because it was in the dark that suggests you are uncomfortable with something you have done. The part with the person in the bed would imply you are attracted to that person, but the dark and the commanding tone you described, as well as the face being in shadow suggests hatred. Once again you consider that person a threat, although now I am unsure of your reasoning." I blinked nervously. Luna always unnerved me a little bit when she talked. She sounded incredibly calm and sure of herself, even when doing something that made no sense, like reading my dreams.

"The reveal of Malfoy at the end brings me to the conclusion that you had a fight with Malfoy, who was for some reason in America and called you a mudblood, you are uncomfortable with what you did, and you either hate him and never want to see him again, or you are attracted to him at a ridiculous level, to the point of obsession." She smiled at me when she finished and curled a strand of her hair around her pinky.

"Wow," I said. "You got the exact situation from a dream I had? Although it's definitely the first one when it comes to the hate or love Malfoy thing at the end." I paused. "Who taught you how to do that?"

"My mother," she replied, dreamily staring out the window. _Luna's mother must have been a hell of a person._ I smiled slightly.

"Have you heard anything from Ginny?" I asked her after a moment. She snapped back to attention from whatever daydream she had been in.

"No. She and Harry have been completely silent to me. I thought you might have heard from them," Luna said.

We talked until around 9. I said goodbye to Luna and her father and went out onto the hills. I considered visiting the Weasleys a few hills away, then decided against it. _I have too much to do today. I'll see them tomorrow when Ginny comes home._

I picked up some food from the grocery in Ottery St. Catchpole, mostly health food. My parents had instilled a belief in healthy eating in me from a young age. I remembered telling a teacher my favorite food was broccoli when I was 5 and having my class laugh at me for liking vegetables. I did, however, indulge in a box of red velvet cupcakes. They were my favorite food and a guilty pleasure.

After dropping off my groceries at home, I took a long nap and did not dream.

At noon I put on my gray cloak and walked to my new job. It was only a 15-minute walk at a brisk pace. I hummed a cheery tune as I went and enjoyed the fall air.

The café where I worked was a nice place that was far larger on the inside than it appeared to be. I looked around at the people drinking coffee and eating pastries. Everyone looked happy. Something about the smell of coffee and chatter of people made me smile. It was the kind of place where you could sit and read for a while. I went up to the redhead at the counter, bypassing the line of people waiting for coffee.

"Hi, I'm the new girl taking the afternoon shift," I said. "My name's Hermione."

She gave me a grin so mischievous and friendly I wondered if she was related to the Weasleys. "Hi, Hermione. Come behind the counter so I can get these guys," she indicated the line, "their drinks." I went around the counter.

Somehow she managed to show me how to do everything while taking the customer's orders and not fouling a single one up. "Okay, so you put on that black apron." She pointed to an apron hanging on a hook on the wall with her left hand, effortlessly making a latte with her right. I tied the apron on. "Your nametag's already attached."

"This one's the cappuccino machine," She shook her head towards a small pink contraption in a line of other similar machines. "Each machine is a different color. Green is latte, blue is hot chocolate, pink is cappuccino, red makes regular coffee, orange does flavored coffee, yellow makes frappes, white does espresso and the black one on the end is for decaf." The redhead rattled the names off effortlessly, pressing a button on each machine, placing a cup under one here or collecting a cup there. Her grin stayed wide. She seemed to have a good word for each customer.

"Sugar's on the shelf behind you, cream, half and half and lactose intolerant cream are in the mini fridge. There are rags for cleaning the counter if something spills on the shelf below the sugar. The bathroom for employees is on your left. If you need to step out for any reason, ask Janice -she's the one with the brown hair toasting bagels over there- to cover for you. Use a waxed paper to get pastries from the display case." She pointed to the glass case in the front of the counter. "The specials of the day are on that green chalkboard behind you. You're the afternoon shift, so don't worry about changing them. Don't forget to smile!" She turned to me and grinned even wider.

A middle aged customer came up to the counter. He had on a wide black hat and a black cloak.

"Hufflepuff, please," he said in a gravelly voice.

"Granted," the redhead said. A black door with a gold knob opened in the far wall. He tipped his hat and opened it. I had a brief glimpse into a small, bright room decorated in the Hufflepuff colors.

"Oh, that's what I forgot to tell you. When a customer asks for a house, say 'granted'. Some will ask for the creature room. When they do that, ask them for an ID. That's the room where the hags, goblins and centaurs hang out. Only humans with business with them are supposed to go in there. If the ID checks out let them in. If it doesn't, be polite and tell them they don't have access to that room." The redhead, whose nametag read Audrey, said this in one breath. "And be nice to the Slytherins. They get uppity if you're not," she said in a confidential whisper.

A few minutes later, after checking that I knew everything, Audrey left me to my shift. I did everything she said, and aside from a minor sugar spill, everything went as planned. A heavyset blonde boy named Robert took my shift later that day. I collected my cloak from the hook, bought a latte from Robert and left.

My mail was all junk. Ginny and Harry hadn't sent even one letter. I sharpened my raven feather quill and sat down to write to them.

_Dear Ginny and Harry,_

_I do hope you two are alright. You haven't written a word to Luna or I, and I'm rather put out about it. Harry, Ginny had better be treating you nicely. She said something before she left about locking you up if you didn't take her to the Eiffel Tower. For your safety, take the girl to the Tower! _

_I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course._ _Considering the fact that we aren't in school anymore, I think I'm doing quite well. Ha-ha. _

_I just got back from America today. The branch of St. Mungo's there is divine and the people were incredibly nice. I had a splendid time until my last day there. Our favorite blonde ferret showed up and was lucky a hospital was right behind him. _

_The café I work at now is a pretty place. There's a girl there who has red hair and a tricky looking grin. You lot don't have a cousin named Audrey, do you?_

_I'll let you two get back to your trip. I expect full details about the Eiffel Tower and/or Harry's time locked in a hotel room when you get home. _

_Love,_

_ Hermione_

I brought my letter to the post office. By this time it was night, but I wasn't sleepy at all.

I decided to go for a walk. I put on my cloak and put the hood up, tucking my wand into my pocket again.

I walked through town, feeling mysterious with my hood up and face mostly hidden. I stopped in front of a wall that I knew had all sorts of interesting art on it. Several new ones had been added since I had seen it last. My favorite was of a girl standing near the edge of the wall, her brown hair and white skirt streaming back in a nonexistent wind. She had one arm outstretched back as if to reach for a person standing behind her. Her mouth quirked in a wry smile.

"Hello, beautiful," a voice drawled. I smiled to myself faintly. _Why on earth is Malfoy in my town?_ _He doesn't seem to recognize me with my hood up._ I acted quickly, whispering a spell to change my voice before I turned to him. _Operation confuse the ferret is go!_

"Hey, handsome," I replied. My voice came out low and smooth.

"What are you doing out here alone in the cold?" I stepped a little closer to him.

"I could ask the same of you," he said smoothly. I laughed a little bit for no reason. He indicated the wall behind me. "Have you seen the art wall before?" I nodded. "It's really the only reason I come to this town. My favorite is that one." Malfoy pointed to the painting I had just been admiring, the girl in the wind. "She looks like she's waiting for someone, don't you think?" He put an arm around my shoulder. "And so do you. Are you waiting for anyone?" I batted my eyes. _Ready, set, confuse. _

I whispered the counter charm to my voice spell. "I'm waiting for you to recognize me, of course." His eyes widened in shock.

"Should I recognize you?" he asked. I slowly pulled back my hood and smiled.

"Yes, you should," I whispered.

"Granger," It wasn't an accusation as it had been in America. He was simply stating my name. He said it again.

"Granger."

**What do you think? Please, please leave a review. Feel free to rant about my grammar (I don't think there are any errors, but if I missed something…) or whatever else you enjoy ranting about. I'll definitely return the favor, not the ranting part, but I'll review your stories. **

**Those of you kind enough to come from the Potter facebook pages, thank you so much! I promise Seamus/Luna is on the way!**

**-Kat**


	2. Carved On My Heart

**Disclaimer: I own no part of Harry Potter, its characters or locations. The café and the personalities of Vera, Audrey and Hermione's mother are yanked from my mind. The song used in Hermione's second dream is called _Everybody_ by Ingrid Michaelson.  
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**Author's Note: We're ignoring the epilogue now. And Hermione's parents haven't been Obliviated. **

**Warning: This chapter includes revenge plots and Luna being inappropriate. **

_Draco_

I woke up in a brightly lit room with my head pounding. I was in an unfamiliar bed and the room smelt of bleach and lemon. I blinked and looked around me, disoriented for a moment before I remembered. Granger had beaten me with a shopping bag. I was in America. I scowled furiously.

"Oh, are you awake?" A cool female voice said. "The calming draught must have worn off, although how you woke up so fast is beyond me." I scowled harder. _I do _not _want another calming draught._ "Can you sit up?" The woman asked me. I slowly lifted myself up into a sitting position on the bed. "Good." She drew out the word so it had ten syllables.

"I don't want another calming draught," I said. I scowled at how groggy my voice sounded. _I sound like that Longbottom boy. Pathetic._

"You need sleep," the Healer insisted. "You were beaten badly." I turned my head sharply to look at her.

"Ouch!" I yelped and rubbed my neck. _Pathetic._ I closed my eyes for a moment and got the pain under control. When I opened my eyes the Healer woman was smiling kindly at me. She was a short, middle-aged black witch with shining straight hair pulled into a long ponytail. The woman had a long, narrow face and shockingly green eyes framed by long lashes. She looked like someone I knew, but I couldn't place her.

"At least take a pain killing potion?" She suggested. I noticed that she had a bit of a Southern accent. "The Malfoy code allows that, right?" I blinked. _How does she know who I am?_ Seeing my bewilderment she elaborated quickly. "Your name was on the clipboard you had, and I've met your aunt Bellatrix. You look significantly more…erm…" She paused. "Put together than she did." I smirked. _Aunt Bella must have shocked this woman beyond belief._

"I'll take a pain killer, but I don't want to be knocked out," I agreed.

"You took quite a beating yesterday," the Healer commented. She waved her wand and a large green bottle came zooming from the next room. She waved her wand again and a goblet appeared. "That Hermione Granger…she wasn't my favorite witch, but she certainly isn't one to rile up!" The Healer poured the bright pink liquid from the bottle into the goblet and handed it to me. I scowled at her.

"She took me by surprise," I said frostily. "And it was _her_ fault." I drank the pink liquid. It was salty, but not unpleasant. As soon as I had finished with the goblet I began to feel a tingling sensation in my limbs, numbing my pain. The witch nodded and took the goblet.

"There's no shame in defeat," she said, giving me a matronly smile. "I've seen that Granger girl take down men twice your size for half the offense. Of course, your aunt wouldn't have accepted that. I suspect you won't either, am I right?" I nodded, feeling like a small child. "But the best thing to do is to go and seek revenge." She gave me a kind smile again. "She is a Mudblood, right? Ask your aunt Bellatrix for help. Nothing illegal of course, but something to make her know her place…oh, this reminds me of when I was young…" She trailed off, apparently lost in memory.

"What do you mean 'when you were young'? What happened?" I asked, feeling slightly woozy from the painkiller and barrage of advice.

The witch looked at me. "Ah, it was years ago. I was a Snatcher…not quite good enough for the real Death Eaters, but I've bled my share of Muggle –borns." She smiled conspiratorially. "Not that you heard that from me." Her smile widened and grew more feral. _She looks like Blaise. Didn't he have an aunt who was with the Dark Lord?_

"I don't think Aunt Bellatrix will come up with anything legal," I said, more to myself than her.

"Well, I have a few suggestions if you'd like to hear them," The Healer said. "But you didn't get these ideas from me, right?"

"Right," I said with a little smirk.

"Right. Well, you could leave her threatening notes, but that might get you arrested by the Muggle police. We know a fight won't work, that Granger's a regular Merlin with spells. So, the option left…. break her heart." The Healer grinned at me.

"Break her heart? What does that mean?" She raised one eyebrow at me. "Okay, I know what you mean, but there are two problems. For one, she hates me. It's going to be kind of hard to turn that around. For another, I have no idea how to go about that. It's just a tad bit difficult to plan something like that," I spilled out in one breath. The witch gave me her matronly smile.

"We can let you out today," she said as a man in a white coat came over. "If you'd fill out some forms and get lots of rest, okay?" He beamed at me.

"How are we doing today, hm?" He had the sugary voice I had heard my mother use around people she didn't like but needed to interact with. "Feeling better?" I nodded and gave him the nicest smile I could manage. The Healer was beaming at him, too. "Good. I can see you're in good hands here, so I'll leave you to fill out your forms, okay?" He strode away, his arms swinging by his sides.

The Healer turned back to me. She made a small circle with her wand. A small bottle labeled 'Pain Killer' appeared in mid air. It was filled with more of the bright pink liquid I had drunk earlier. "Medicine for you," she said. She plucked the bottle out of the air and handed it to me. "And…" She made a slashing motion with her wand. A piece of parchment appeared. She took it and tapped it with her wand. "A plan for you. I know Granger and I know heartbreak. Owl me with the results, okay? Send an owl to St. Mungo's, USA, and label the scroll 'Vera Zabini'. That's me." She gave me a grin that suddenly looked exactly like Blaise's. _So they are related. I'll have to tell him I met her. _"Oh, and tell your aunt the jinx is in play. She'll know what it means." Vera winked.

"Thanks. I'll send you an owl, and I'll also tell Blaise I met you," I said. "He mentioned he had an aunt in America." She winked again.

"Blaise! He'd better owl me soon before I send him a Howler!" She put her hands on her ample hips. "If you'd head on down to the front desk and fill out a release form, you can get out of here. Just tell 'em your name." I stood and gave her a small bow. "Oh! You'll need your street clothes!" She exclaimed. "Accio Draco Malfoy's clothing!" She waved her wand in the air like a conductor's baton and my outfit floated out of a small cabinet in the corner of the room. "I'll leave you to change. Elevator is down the hall." She walked quickly out of the room, her head up and ponytail swinging.

I filled out my release form and took a unicorn sticker. _I do love these, no matter how girly they may be._ Clutching my empty tote bag, potion bottle and revenge plot I twisted into darkness and reappeared outside Malfoy Manor.

Sitting in my main bedroom (I had a few of them around the Manor) I began to read the plot Vera Zabini had written in golden ink.

**Operation Granger Heartbreak  
><strong>

** Your mission, Draco Malfoy, should you choose to accept it, is to break Hermione Granger's heart beyond repair. The following plan details how to do so. Hide this plan (and open it again) by waving your wand over the parchment and saying the words 'Vera told me so' over it. **

** Step One: Flirt.**

**To get Granger's attention, you're going to have to learn to be charming. To do that, not only are you going to have to stop calling her 'Mudblood', you're going to have to listen. Remember she's smart. Being too nice will give you away. Ease her into liking you _slowly_. Listen to her. Talk about things she likes. Be assertive and arrogant, though. Throw in an insult every so often. **

**Granger lives in a tiny town called Ottery St. Catchpole. She told me she lived there for 2 reasons.**

** The Café**

** The Bookshop**

** The Café: The Café Du Locke. Blaise goes there, and I believe you have as well. She'll be working the afternoon shift in the main room or you might find her there in the morning. Don't talk to her if you're there with Blaise during this stage. Don't try to go into the Gryffindor room. If possible, comment to her when buying coffee. **

** The Bookshop: A little bookshop on Main Street called Cozy's. A liberated houself and a runaway named Linda Black in the 17th century founded it. Say nothing unfavorable about blood traitors, Mudblood or house elf labor while in Cozy's. She could be in there almost any time of day except during her shift at the Café. I would suggest going there on a Sunday sometime around 10 AM. Remember that appearing too much will be obvious. Keep your visits here limited to once a week, and always buy or read a book when you're in the shop.**

** Come up with an excuse for you to be in Ottery St. Catchpole frequently. Local deliveries for your job (You had a fancy title, something like International Apparation Specialist.) Don't tell her you're a delivery boy. If she figures it out, don't get too offended.**

** She has a long, ratty gray cloak that she likes to wear with the hood up. Assume all short, curly haired women are Granger. Remember to be covert. Be mean at first. Don't try to see her when you're drunk. Don't get beat up again.**

** Do this for about a week or until she becomes used to seeing you around town before you move on to step 2. **

** I recommend you tell your aunt about the plan as soon as possible. And remember to give her my message.**

I folded the parchment and put it on the bedside table. Digging my wand out of my pocket, I said the magic words.

"Vera told me so!" I said, feeling triumphant for no reason at all. I looked out the window at the position of the sun. It was around sundown. I estimated Granger would probably be near the end of her shift now. I didn't want to run into her right then, though. _I should go to work. There could be a new delivery._ I changed into a pair of black pants and a green long sleeve T -shirt. _No button downs today. I'll just wear a coat._I put on my gray wool military style coat. Pausing briefly to say hello to my mother on the way out of the Manor, I Apparated to my job.

"'Lo, Malfoy," a man said as I strode inside the office. He was a heavyset man with a wrinkled forehead from worrying, shrewd eyes and olive toned skin. I recognized him as Travis Smith, the specialist in charge of 'School Deliveries'. He did all the illegal transactions that required stealth.

"Smith," I replied coldly as I walked past. I had no friendship with the man. He unnerved me a bit. Something in his eyes made me feel like I should curse him to protect

myself. _Old reflex, I suppose. I had to curse a lot of people during the war. _

_You never fought on the front lines!_ Granger's words echoed in my ears and I winced at the phantom pain in my nose. _Filthy Mudblood. I can't wait to get revenge._

I entered the room where my department's deliveries were kept. My boss was standing with her back to me, her hands clenched behind her back. She was a stern woman who spoke only to command people.

"Malfoy!" She barked. "Margaret's out today! Take her delivery!"

I gritted my teeth. "Yes, ma'am," I said in the most respectful tone I could muster. "Where am I delivering to?" Margaret did local deliveries only as she couldn't Apparate very far. She did mostly illegal deliveries to the classier criminals.

"Ottery St. Catchpole, the Star Nightclub!" my boss barked. I wondered if she was part dog.

"Yes, ma'am!" I resisted the urge to salute as she strutted out of the room, looking like a bulldog. I picked up what Margaret was supposed to be delivering. The box was heavy. It was labeled 'Goblets, size C'. The 'c' probably meant the goblets were cursed and someone was going to be very ill when they drank from these. I didn't bother taking Margaret's checklist. It only had 'Pencil boxes' written on it, anyway.

The Star Nightclub was a small black affair in downtown Ottery St. Catchpole. At a glance it looked a bit like an abandoned apartment building. A red neon star was hung over the door, which was guarded by a surly bouncer with a ridiculous mustache. I ignored this and went around to the back door. I left the box in a shaded spot next to the dumpster and knocked on the back door. A man with a smile that was far too large and far too white opened it. He smelt of whiskey and sweat. I tried not to grimace.

"Delivery," I said. "Goblets, size C."

"You're not Margo," he responded in a rough voice. "Is she sick?" I shrugged.

"I don't know. Goblets are next to the door." I turned and walked away. I didn't care what this man's relationship with Margaret was. _She must be his drug dealer. _

I didn't have anything else to do, so I wandered the little wizarding town. It was a rather nice town, if a bit shabby. The buildings downtown were spaced wide enough apart that there were several alleys. The streets were lit well enough that I could see the alleyways led to other streets and weren't dead ends.

The bookshop Vera had mentioned was closed. It was, for lack of a better word, cute. Green shutters were closed over the windows. The clean glass door had a paisley curtain drawn over it so I couldn't see the interior. A sign with the word 'Closed' written on it in large, square handwriting hung from the gold doorknob. The large 'Cozy's' sign on the storefront was made in that same meticulous handwriting. The whole place seemed to sparkle, as if the store itself were happy.

_Ridiculous._ I walked past it without a second glance.

The downtown streets were fairly crowded for a town this small. People talked and laughed in groups, shopping or eating or simply wandering around as I was. The town was like a chicken coop, everyone squawking and crowing.

Suddenly the crowd seemed to thin. A sign informed me I had walked to the residential area. Here the streets were darker, lit only by the occasional street lamp. A few people were scattered here and there, talking in hushed tones to each other or the walls.

Street art abounded as well. People had signed their names everywhere in bright colors. I stopped to look at a wall decorated with spray paint people. The people on the walls were dressed in gaudy costumes or nothing at all. I saw paintings dancing, laughing, talking and thousands of other things. This wasn't ordinary Muggle graffiti, though. The pictures _moved_. A painting of a woman in a top hat danced first with a man in a ballgown, then a silhouette with devil horns, and then an angel with a sad face. She noticed me watching her and smiled at me. Her teeth were bright red.

"You lookin' for something?" A male voice rasped beside me. I drew my wand and turned to face the voice. He was a man slightly shorter than me, with long stringy hair and a thick brown beard. The man wore a long brown coat, patched and faded pants and boots with a hole in one toe. His eyes were clouded and his teeth rotting. The man drew his own wand.

"That depends on what you're offering," I said. _I'm armed. What harm can come to me by talking to this man?_

He leered at me and opened his coat to reveal a large array of powders, packets and potion bottles. "I got everything you could want, boy. Snargaluff powder, Laughter Draught, Alice in Wonderland Cake, you name it and I can get it to you. I got Muggle stuff too, if that's your thing." He looked up at me, his beard glistening in the faint lamplight. "You look like you need relaxing. If you've got the Galleons, I've got the cure."

_What in the hell is Alice in Wonderland Cake, anyway?_ I lit my wand and examined his wares. A small potion bottle glistened from one side of his coat. The man saw me examining it.

"Oh, you're interested in the Devil's Dance," he said and held up the bottle. The

dark contents swished eerily. "That's odd. You don't seem the type."

"Tell me more about it and then I'll tell you if I'm the type," I replied. He leered wider.

"It's like dancing with the Devil. One swig of this-you drink it-and you're dancing. You don't give a damn about anything. You go out of control and when you come to, it's like you know who you are, like everything's clear at last. When you're on this stuff…woo! You've got hot coals on your feet and you just want to keep moving. See her?" He pointed to the dancing woman on the wall, who was now spinning rapidly, pulling the man with devil horns and the angel along with her. "She's on it. She was made when a guy was high on this stuff and wanted to paint. He also did the one over there, the hat with all that rainbow stuff coming out of it. You see all sorts of crazy things on Devil."

_I don't really think I want to be out of control. _"Sounds good. But you're right, I'm not the type." I said. _Plus, that woman looks insane. _

"I knew it. But I've got something for you, since you're not the type for Devil." He yanked out a small cake. "Alice. They use this in hospitals, to help people calm down when the Calming Draughts aren't doing it. They used to add stuff to it to make it like Skelegrow, but this is just the calmer. Eat a little of this and your head clears. You don't feel much and you know _everything_. It's like being Albert Einstein, you know?"

_ No, I don't know what it's like to be Albert Einstein. Nor do I want to._ "No, not today, thanks." I put out my wand and walked away. He didn't follow me.

I went to a friendlier feeling part of town, where the art didn't move and there were more people and better lighting again. I looked at the art, which covered the walls almost entirely. Another helpful sign told me this was the art space where anyone could paint on the walls. A particular wall caught my eye. It was covered in large paintings of people who did not move. The colors here were brighter and no one had red teeth in these paintings.

A woman in a cloak was looking at the wall, as well. She was short and thin. I could see she was wearing ballet flats and jeans under the cloak. I moved along the wall closer to her. The art here was stunning. I focused on a particular piece depicting a face, ignoring the witch next to me. The face was a close up of a young woman with short black hair, a nose piercing and an expression that probably could have killed a small animal. _Vanessa Parkinson._

I recognized the woman with a sudden clarity. It made sense that she would be depicted here, considering she worked at the Café Du Locke. It was obviously not a self-portrait. Vanessa would have painted herself from farther away, and she certainly wouldn't have included the poem written next to her right cheek. The poem read:

_ Enemies in reality_

_ Lovers in their dreams_

_ She is not who she was  
><em>

_ He is not who he seems._

I couldn't help but smile at the poem. It sounded like a prophecy or something Looney Lovegood would say.

For some reason, I suddenly became acutely aware of the woman next to me. I looked at her sidelong. Her hood put her face mostly in shadow. She had fair skin and full lips, which were parted slightly. Curly brown hair fell around her shoulders. She stood with her weight on her toes, leaning forward unconsciously as if to get closer to the art on the wall.

Wait. _Curly brown hair? Is it-no, it can't be. There must be dozens of short, curly haired witches in this town. But what did Vera say? Assume all short, curly haired witches are Granger. I've got to see if it really is her. I'll act like it's not her, perhaps. If I catch her off guard she's less likely to hit me again._

"Hello, beautiful," I said. _Why did I say that? I sound terrible!_

She muttered something to herself before she responded. Her voice was pitched low and smooth as silk. I blinked. _That can't be her. _

I made small talk with the witch, slowly becoming sure it wasn't Granger. She turned towards me slowly and smiled. She muttered something again.

"I'm waiting for you to recognize me, of course," she said in a different voice. _A voice spell! That little…no. I've got to be civil to her. _My mouth was moving, but I had no clue what I was saying anymore._ Perhaps if I act like I knew it was her? Here goes nothing…_

"Granger," I said simply. _Wow, very clever, Draco. Really, really witty! _I silently quashed my snarky inner voice and moved my hand away from her shoulder.

"What," she said coldly, putting down her hood, "are you doing here?"

"Er…" I trailed off. "My job brings me here. And the wall." I pointed to the art wall behind her. "Why are you here?" I attempted to sneer and regain my dignity. Judging by her amused smile, it wasn't working.

"I live here." She folded her arms over her chest.

"Here, in this little ugly town? Why would you want to live here?" I kept my voice inflectionless. I knew I had said the wrong thing when she flushed nearly purple and narrowed her eyes.

"I _happen_ to like it here. No one is making you stay, Malfoy. If you don't like my town, get the hell out of it, yes?" Her voice was quiet and calm. It was the tone my mother used right before she cursed something or broke the furniture.

"Ah, no, no. That's not what I meant-"

She cut me off. "Well, what _did_ you mean?" _This Mudblood is pushing me too far._ I clenched my fists. _Operation Granger Heartbreak, remember? You have got to calm down._

I forced my face into a smirk. "Perhaps if you let me finish a sentence, you would find out?" She went through a kaleidoscope of colors, from her angry purple to red, then to pink, white, and back to pink. She looked embarrassed and angry now. "What I meant, was that last time I saw you, you were in Boston, which is a perfectly nice town and I was simply wondering why you were back in England." I took a deep breath and focused on the wall behind her, about a foot above her head. _Please, let her believe that. Please, please, please…_

"Well, if you must know I've moved back here for a brief period before visiting my grandmother in Bulgaria," she said, her tone slightly warmer. I breathed out in relief.

"And what exactly is your job?" She asked, narrowing her eyes again.

"I," I replied as normally as I could under her frightening glare, "am an International Apparation Specialist." 

"Ooh, the ferret's got a fancy title," she sneered. I winced a little bit.

"You wound me, madam," I said in a theatrical voice, clutching at my heart. "I can feel the world fading around me…tell my mother I love her…" I closed my eyes and slumped against the wall as if I had died. Unable to resist, I opened one eye to look at the witch. She was obviously trying not to laugh.

"You bruise too easily, Malfoy," she said when she had regained control of herself. "Has anyone ever told you that? Legitimately, you bruise and break so easily, like a china doll."

_She looks more like a china doll than I do,_ I thought from my slumped position. I stood back up. "Should I take that as a complement?" I asked, smirking again.

"No, you should take it as a medical diagnostic," she said, flashing me a brilliant smile that had none of the beaver like qualities I remembered. "Speaking as a Healer, you are a fragile person and should avoid bumping into me." She folded her arms over her chest again, but didn't seem quite so angry this time.

I laughed coolly. _Things are going well? Already? Damn, Vera is good!_ "I suppose that's good advice," I said. She smiled again. _Don't drag this meeting out, Draco. Play like you haven't got time for her at first._ I pulled back the sleeve of my coat a little and checked my watch.

"Oh, shit. I've got to go-duty calls," I said. She looked slightly relieved. _I guess things aren't going as well as I thought._ I moved a few feet back from her and turned on the spot into oblivion.

_Hermione_

After he left, I looked at the art for a bit longer and then walked home. I fell instantly to sleep that night, but my dreams were once again plagued with Malfoy.

**There's new art on the wall. A tortured looking blonde boy with a sharp angular face stares in massive proportions next to the intense looking girl with black hair. Though none of the other art moves, his longish hair blows back from his face. He holds up his left arm for my inspection. On it, instead of the Dark Mark I know should be there, a line from a poem is written.**

** 'He is not who he seems.' **

** I look from his arm back to his face. He winks at me, turns and walks away down a long passage that appears behind him on the wall. At the end of the passage is a black door of the sort they had in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. He stops just in front of it and turns back to face me again. He beckons for me to follow him. Without thought I step through the wall and into the damp, dripping passage. He opens the door for me and steps back so I can see what lies beyond.**

** Behind the door is my bedroom, with me sitting up in the bed, looking out at Malfoy and myself. She does not seem to see me. Her eyes brighten at the sight of Malfoy as he steps forward towards the door. He smirks at me and steps through, closing the door behind him with another wink. The slam of the door echoes unnaturally. **

I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my door. It was a slow knock, one rap every few seconds. I recognized the sound of that knock. Still in my nightgown I picked up my wand and made my way to the door, yawning and stretching as I went.

When I opened the door, Luna stood there in Muggle clothing. She was wearing gray corduroys and a blue long sleeve shirt with a rainbow arcing across it. Something about her appearance still looked off. Maybe it was the way her eyes seemed to be at the same time glazed over and intensely staring into my soul. Maybe it was the fact that she was oddly awake for so early in the morning. Or maybe it was just because she was wearing her radish earrings.

"Good morning, 'Mione," she said vaguely. "Have I woken you?"

"Oh, it's no trouble. Please, come in," I replied, yawning again and moving aside to let her through the door. A painful sense of déjà vu hits me from the dream I just had.

"You look like you've been dreaming again," Luna commented, stepping inside and looking me over. "What have you been dreaming about?" I wasn't surprised by her frank questions about my dreams. Luna tended to be honest to the point of it being embarrassing. I had gotten used to it over the years. I shut the door and went to sit down on the couch. She sat next to me, just a little too close.

"Malfoy," I said, grimacing. "The damned ferret keeps getting into my dreams. It's disturbing." Luna gave me a smile that insinuated something I didn't want to think about.

"Would you like to tell me about the dream?" She asked, knowing I'd say yes. Despite her oddness, Luna was the best person to talk to when you had odd dreams. Or, for that matter, when you needed dirigible plums.

"Let me get dressed and make coffee first, then I'll tell you," I said. She nodded happily. "Would you like anything while I'm in the kitchen?"

"Oh, no thank you," she replied, beaming innocently, all the innuendo of a moment ago gone.

I dressed myself in a pair of black leggings and a white button down and quickly tied back my hair, not bothering to brush it. I hurried into the kitchen and made coffee, letting the familiar smell calm the last jangle of nerves from my dream. When the coffee was ready I rejoined Luna in the living room.

Sipping my coffee, I told Luna about the dream and the odd meeting with Malfoy in town. Her eyes got wider and wider as I spoke. When I finished I looked at her, waiting for her verdict on my dream. She thought for a moment, took a deep breath and began to talk in a slow, flowing chain of words.

"The graffiti in the dream probably just refers to the art you were looking at yesterday," she said. " Seeing art in your dreams can also be a projection of subconscious desire or creative urges. You saw Malfoy, so some part of you was thinking about him.

"The fact that he had that poem on his arm gives me cause to think your expectations of him aren't matching the reality, although I'm not sure why. The lack of the Dark Mark just means you are attempting to suppress memories of the war, which is also normal. People with tragic memories often suppress them and see representations of that in dreams. It could theoretically also mean you don't associate Malfoy with evil anymore." She paused and took another breath.

"You associate the door with the Ministry of Magic, and it's not uncommon to dream of old experiences and new ones at the same time. Doors can also indicate a feeling of responsibility towards something.

"The tunnel indicates you are looking into the future and seeing something you subconsciously abhor or desire. When I have dreams like that I see Crumple Horned Snorkacks. It could also show a desire to move forward from the place where you are or were.

"Malfoy's presence in the dream baffles me a bit. Him just being there briefly would tell me you were recalling an experience in which you met him." Luna looked at me suspiciously. "But he was a main factor of the dream. The door having your bedroom behind it would normally just be a representation of you suppressing bad memories, but your bedroom was again darkened and you were _in the room_. You saw yourself in your dream.

"Some wizards think this has to do with time travel in dreams, and the ability to move forward in time to see a future. It might just be the same thing as the tunnel; you're projecting a desire to move forward. The bedroom being darkened in this context would suggest you-or at least the version of you in the bedroom- associate the darkened room with waiting for something. Your position on the bed, expectantly sitting and looking outwards, emphasizes this. Agatha Reverie, a famous Seer, believed that seeing yourself looking back at you meant you were waiting for some version of yourself, which reinforces the representation of the tunnel.

"But you said your dream self didn't seem to see you, which means she-you-are waiting for something else. You were alone in the room, which gives the idea you need human contact of a different sort than you're used to. The most common interpretation of that is that you want or need to be loved by someone else.

"Malfoy stepping into the room here would fulfill that desire, but he _slammed the door._ Slamming doors in dreams are not good things. They usually represent a feeling of isolation and guilt. Isolation-that reinforces the idea that you desire human contact on some level, which Malfoy fulfilled in the dream. But you were left out of the activity that fulfilled this need, and while a dream with Malfoy and two of you would be messed up enough, this is just baffling. You are of two minds here, I think. You want contact and love, but you are also guilty and confused.

"If it had been Ron in the dream perhaps it would have made sense, but you two broke up a little while after the war. You want someone else, but you don't want to leave behind your memory of Ron and the war, you still feel an obligation to them. That reinforces the door idea.

"You also don't know quite what you want here, because the tunnel leading towards your future was dripping and damp. Damp places mean uncertainty, nothing is dry or concrete. At any point it could all flood and the dream could go away. You want something more, something new, but options for who can give that feeling of love to you are limited.

"While some people turn to studies and career to solve this, you have been doing that your whole life. Though you don't like Malfoy, your subconscious has labeled him as the nearest available male. So not only are you subconsciously desiring what Malfoy can give you-" She smiled insinuatingly again-"but you also have guilt about it. I suggest you fuck him now and be done with." Luna finished calmly. I gaped open mouthed at her.

_Luna Lovegood just told me to fuck someone. Luna Lovegood just…! _My prudish mind was a disorganized mess. _How can she say that? _

_Well, maybe she's right, _said my rarely heard libido, speaking up for the first time in years.

_No, no she is not! I do NOT want to have sex with that ferret!_

_Are you sure? _Asked my libido, smirking at me and waggling its eyebrows.

_Yes, I'm sure! _I replied to myself forcefully.

_You're sure you want to fuck him?_ My libido leered at me from inside my head and I felt myself flush.

_No, no, no! How…why…what…AH! _Luna was looking calmly at me.

"It's quite normal, you know. Most girls have wanted to have sex with Draco Malfoy at some point," she said vaguely. _What exactly is she implying? _A disturbing image popped into my head. _Ugh, no, I did NOT need to see that, _said the more normal part of my mind.

_Luna and Malfoy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_ My libido crowed, tangoing across my head with my imagination.

_Shut. Up. NOW. _I told myself. _Get yourself together._

_Oh, at least ask her,_ my libido begged.

_No!_

_It would be easy, just say 'Luna, did YOU ever want to fuck Draco Malfoy?' She'll answer honestly, you know her!_ My libido waggled its eyebrows again.

_No. Go away. Go bother someone else._ I told it.

_I'm YOUR sex drive, honey, get used to me 'cause I ain't leaving! _My libido put its hands on its waist and grinned at me. _You'll like me soon enough, I promise. You'll need me later._ It did a cartwheel and wiggled its hips at me.

"Are you arguing with yourself?" Luna asked me, interrupting my libido's antics.

"How did you know that?" I asked in return, shocked at her intimate knowledge of my head.

"Oh, it happened to me when Ginny was talking about Harry last year. I suspect there are Wrackspurts around, they like emotionally charged situations," she said calmly.

"Yeah…"I trailed off, distracted by my train of thought. My libido was now replaying the dream in slow motion, lingering on Malfoy's face.

_Go away. I don't want to have sex with Draco Malfoy, and that's FINAL!_ I nearly yelled it out loud, so strong was the force of the command. My libido took after me though, and it wouldn't go away.

_Oh no it's no-oo-o-ot!_ It sang at me, linking arms with my imagination and spinning it around. _It's not, not, not final! You-ou-ou-ou want to-_

_Shut up! _I cut it off.

_You want to do him like he's Arithmancy homework, and you're going to get an Outstanding! _I nearly giggled at my brain's odd way of saying things.

"'Mione?" Luna asked quietly. "I realize you're locked in combat with some part of your brain-I suspect your libido-but Ginny and Harry are back, remember? We're going to meet them at the café for late breakfast?" My libido paused in its singing at this.

"Oh, yes. Let's go, shall we?" I said. We stood and left the house. My libido had thankfully gone back to its state of silence. Luna, however, was very talkative. She rambled on about gurdyroots and Nargles and dirigible plums, and Harry and Ginny and then something about my dreams, and back to gurdyroots.

Audrey was working at the café when we arrived. She waved to me with her Fred-and-George grin, and then went back to making coffee for the line of customers waiting in the shop. The place was less crowded than it was during the afternoon, but it was still buzzing with the chatter of people talking, drinking and reading the _Daily Prophet_.

Luna and I found Harry and Ginny at a table in the corner, close to one of the large windows.

"Hello, Harry, hello, Ginny," Luna said dreamily to them.

"Hello," I said. We both sat down across from them.

"Hi," they said almost in unison. Ginny beamed brightly at me. Her freckled cheeks were rosy. Harry's green eyes were lit up like a fireworks display. They had something to tell us.

"We have something to tell you," Ginny said.

Harry nervously gulped some coffee. Clearly, whatever they were going to tell us was big. Ginny was so excited she practically had sparks coming off her.

"Something big," Harry added. His hair looked even messier than usual. Ginny looked like she was about to burst with excitement. She opened her mouth and then looked at Harry. He smiled at her. She beamed back. Ginny really was radiant when she was happy. She almost looked like a Veela. Harry opened his mouth to say something. His arm tensed and I knew he was gripping Ginny's hand under the table.

"Well, spit it out," I said encouragingly. "What have you got to tell us?"

Ginny smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back. Ginny slowly lifted her left hand from under the table, dramatically presenting her ring.

_Her ring? They're…no, they aren't. They are! They're getting married!_

"We're getting married!" She squeaked. Harry smiled broadly and kissed her on the cheek; he looked like the happiest man alive.

I felt a strange pang of loneliness in my chest. Meanwhile Luna was bouncing up and down in her chair, nearly as excited as the other two. I pinned my face into a smile.

"That's great!" I exclaimed.

"Amazing! You know, I'd be happy to provide Snargaluff pods for the wedding. They keep away evil intentions," Luna added. Ginny giggled a little despite herself.

"We're going to have the wedding outdoors," she started.

"On the beach near Shell Cottage," Harry added.

"And we'd like you two to be bridesmaids!" Ginny squeaked. _This habit of finishing each other's sentences is going to get annoying fast. _

"Sure!" I said, beaming a bit wider.

"Of course!" Luna agreed.

"Excellent," Harry and Ginny said together. Ginny continued speaking in a rapid flurry.

"We're inviting everyone we can think of, and you two are welcome to bring a guest. We're still making the invite list, so if you want to add to it later you can. We're going to have the wedding in the style Bill and Phlegm-I mean, Fleur- had theirs, with the nice tables that become a dance floor, you know?" She took an excited, gulping breath. "We're having six bridesmaids, that's Luna, Cho Chang, Padma and Parvati Patil, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell.

_What about me?_ I wondered silently.

"Hermione, we'd like you to be the maid of honor, if that's okay," Harry said while Ginny took another breath.

"I'd love to be the maid of honor!" I said, caught up in the wedding plans despite myself.

Ginny kept talking. "We're writing our own vows, the traditional ones are _so_ outdated and sexist, and we've decided to dress the six bridesmaids in blue, with the maid of honor-that's you, 'Mione- in purple. You'll all be carrying a single red rose. And I think we'll have Ron as best man. Madam Malkin is doing the wedding dress and Harry's tuxedo, and we're still trying to figure out if we should use her for the bridesmaids' dresses. She _is_ the best, but I saw the cutest blue dress in Twilfit and Tattings the other day that would look absolutely _spectacular_ on Luna." Harry smiled a little wearily.

_She overwhelms him. I do hope she doesn't run TOO wild with those wedding plans. Harry's money isn't endless. And six bridesmaid dresses from Twilfit and Tattings will certainly be expensive. I wonder who's baking the wedding cake? Knowing Ginny it'll be a really spectacular creation. A cake with at least four tiers, and the top one would have little moving figurines of Harry and Ginny…extravagant frosting and exquisite flavor too, no doubt. And I just know she's going to want to order wine or firewhiskey for everyone, and if they're really inviting everyone they can think of the bill is going to add up quickly…_I was half fantasizing about the wedding and half worrying that it was impossible. Ginny had continued talking through this, of course, and Harry eventually had to stop her.

"Ginny, love, we've been here for two hours," he said quietly. She stopped talking and looked wide-eyed at him. "Not that I don't love hearing about our wedding again and again, but I do have a job to go to, and I'm sure Luna and Hermione do too, right?" He looked across the table at us with an expression that clearly meant _help me!_ I almost laughed.

_He should know how formidable Ginny is when she plans! He's been dating her for FIVE YEARS._

I checked my watch and was surprised to see I really _did _have a job to go to now. "Damn!" I exclaimed. "I do have a job. If you want to talk to me at the counter over there, go ahead but don't hold up the line, okay?" I stood up and went to where Audrey was making a latte for a man in a suit. Harry, Ginny and Luna waved to me and left.

"Sorry I'm late," I said to her.

"No problem!" She grinned at me. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself over there."

I took my apron off the hook on the wall. "My friends are planning their wedding." I said. "They want me to be the maid of honor." I stepped into Audrey's place and put on my best smile.

"What can I get you?" I asked the tall woman who was standing on the other side of the counter.

"Creature room," she rasped. She had a pinched face and a long nose. The combination made her look a bit like the fairy tale representation of a witch. She even had a wart.

"Can I see your ID, please?" I asked. She tossed a card over the counter at me.

**Amy Alderton**

**Age: 34**

**Species: Hag** it read. I looked it over for any flaws.

"Granted," I said. A black door with a glowing white handle appeared in the wall. The woman opened it and I got a brief glimpse of a dark room filled with hags, centaurs and all types of other creatures. She shut the door behind her with a slam.

Next an older man with a scar running down one side of his face stepped up.

"Caramel mocha with extra sugar," he said in a Scottish accent. I smiled at him and he smiled back, the expression stretching his scar into an odd shape.

"Coming right up!" I said. I hummed a fast tune while I made the coffee. "That's two Sickles," I said and handed him the drink. He gave me three.

"One for yourself," he whispered conspiratorially to me. The man walked out with a limping step. I saw that one of his legs ended in a metal rod.

The rest of the afternoon passed in this way. I loved to talk to the customers. I recognized a few by name from the day before. The coffee flowed and the people were happy. I did not think about my dream for the rest of that day.

When I made it home I checked my phone messages. There was one from Ron, who yelled into the phone that he wanted to know how America had been. Ron had never properly learned how to use a telephone, and I suspected Harry had helped him dial the number.

The next message was from Luna. She told me that if I had any more dreams I should come straight to her for a cup of tea and a dream reading. Then she mentioned something about freshwater Plimpies that I didn't quite understand.

The third and final message was from my mother. She wanted me to call her back and tell her all about America and 'my friends these days'. After dinner I call her back first.

"Mum?" I asked when the phone finished ringing.

"Hermione!" She said. "How are you? Did America treat you nicely? Did you meet any boys there?" I could picture her sitting at the scratched up kitchen table, stirring her cup of tea and reading a romance novel, the phone cupped between her ear and her shoulder like she always did when I lived with them.

"I'm fine, America was lovely, and I haven't met anyone," I replied. "What about you? Are you and Dad okay?"

"Oh, we're just fine. Getting old in peace. He's taken to watching baseball lately. How are your friends?" My mum had absolutely adored Harry, Ginny and Luna when I had taken them to visit her the year before.

"They're great, actually. Guess what?" I moved the phone to my other ear.

"What, pumpkin?" She used the nickname she had given me when I crawled inside a large jack-o-lantern when I was three.

"Harry and Ginny are getting married!" She squeaked in excitement on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, how wonderful!" She said.

"I'm going to be the maid of honor," I added. "And Ginny planned the wedding to us for two hours today. I don't think she's been this excited since the Holyhead Harpies won the World Cup!"

My mum laughed at the unfamiliar words. She didn't know much about Quidditch, but liked to talk about it. When Harry and Ginny visited her she had been incredibly enthusiastic about the sport. "That's lovely, dear. Are you going to bring a date to the wedding?"

I rolled my eyes. "Mummy!"

"What? Are you?" I pictured her leaning forward in her seat at the table as if I were sitting across from her.

"No, Mum. I'm not dating anyone, remember?" I replied.

"Oh…"She sounded disappointed. "What about that Ronald Weasley? Weren't you two together?"

"No, Mummy. We were, but we aren't," I said. "I'm not really looking to date right now."

"Okay, sweetheart. Do what makes you happy," she said.

"Tell Dad I said hi," I said. "Love you."

"I love you too, pumpkin. And, Hermione?" It sounded like she was wrinkling her brow.

"Yes, Mum?" I asked.

"Do what makes you happy, okay?"

"I will, Mummy. Bye bye," I said.

"Goodbye, pumpkin," My mother hung up first the way she always had.

_Do what makes you happy?_ I wondered to myself. _What does that mean?_

_It means you should do Draco Malfoy!_ My libido spoke up again.

_You again?_ _What do you want?_

_Exactly what you want, honey. I want what makes you happy! _It purred at me.

_I think your idea of happiness is a bit different than mine._

_I AM you, girl. Unless there's some serious split personality going on here, I have the same intentions as you. Except I've prioritized them differently._ It seemed to be in a calmer mood now.

_Calmer mood? Would you like me to do…THIS?_ It grabbed my imagination and started dancing around with it again. I winced at the mental images it was evoking.

"My God, I need help," I said out loud. "Maybe I should just go to bed." I forcibly shut down my brain, changed into my pajamas and went to sleep. That night I dream in sound.

**I'm standing by the art wall. Music is playing.**

** _Everybody, everybody wants to love._**

** Malfoy slumps against it and falls straight through. He becomes the painting as before.**

** _Everybody, everybody wants to be loved._**

** Malfoy holds his arm out for me to see. On it is the Dark Mark.**

** _Happy is the heart that still feels pain._**

** Malfoy cradles his arm to his chest and blinks back tears of pain.**

** _Darkness drains and light will come again._**

** He pulls his arm away and holds it up again. Now the line from the poem is written on it. 'He is not who he seems'. Instead of walking down the tunnel again, he reaches out of the wall and pulls me in with him.**

** I feel suddenly dizzy. I become aware I can't feel my heart beat anymore. I fall to the ground. My eyes are still open and I can see everything.**

** He holds up my heart, still beating. With his other hand he takes out a knife and carves his name into it. Then he holds it out to me, but I cannot reach to take it.**

** _Swing open up your chest and let it in._**

**My arms can move again, and I tear open my chest, exposing my empty ribcage. He puts the heart in and zips me up again as if I were a sweatshirt. I stand up and take a deep breath, grateful for the air. **

** _Oh, everybody know the love_.**

** He holds out his hand and I take it. He takes my other hand and we dance, completely off tempo to the music. His hands feel cold, as if he is dead.**

** _Everybody hold the love._ **

** He spins me in a slow circle and pulls me close to him. I can feel his heart beating. Then I push away and he spins me again.**

** "This is a dream, you know," he says over the music.**

** "I know," I reply. "This wouldn't happen in real life." **

** "Wouldn't it?" He narrows his eyes. "It could."**

** "Us dancing in a tunnel inside a wall? Somehow I doubt it," I say. His grasp on me tightens.**

** "Perhaps," he says, "you only need the first word of that."**

** "Us." I say.**

** "Together." He replies.**

** _Everybody folds for love._**

** "That's not possible, is it?" I ask.**

** "Anything is possible, didn't Looney Lovegood tell you that?" He smirks.**

** "That's not the truth!" I exclaim.**

** "Granger, I just put your heart back in your chest. I think the standards of possibility have been sort of turned on their head." I can't think of something to counter that.**

** "This is odd music to be dancing to. It could slow down some," I say to fill the silence.**

** "Don't change the subject, Granger," he says. "The music could stop altogether and it wouldn't matter. What matters is that we're here. Together in your dreams."**

** "Does that matter?" I ask.**

** "Yes," he says simply. **

** "But it's a dream. It won't happen again, that's not possible!"**

** "It is possible."**

** "Isn't!" I exclaim like a child.**

** "Is," he replies calmly. **

** The song ends and we stop dancing. I feel oddly apprehensive. Something is about to happen. And it does. **

** Without a word, or any drastic movement, I realize I am holding Malfoy's heart in one hand and a knife in the other. Instead of lying on the ground the way I was, he is standing calmly against the wall. He seems incapable of sound or movement. I know what I have to do to bring him back. Slowly, carefully, I carve my name into the heart. Wordlessly he opens his chest. Instead of ripping, he opens himself like a double door. It reminds me of a robot movie I saw once. I place his heart inside his chest and close him. I don't feel disturbed at all.**

** He comes back to life with a shudder and takes a deep, gasping breath.**

** "Granger." He says simply.**

** "Malfoy." I reply.**

I woke up in the early hours of the morning with a pain in my chest. A light rain pattered against my window and reminds me of waking up this way when I lived in my parents' house. The first thing I was tempted to do was call Luna right away and tell her about my dream. The second thing I was tempted to do was scream.

_I have 'Draco Malfoy' literally in my heart. I have…dear God, these dreams are getting disturbing. I need therapy. I need help. I need a hot cup of coffee to sort this out._

As I made my coffee and tried to wake up, only one thing ran through my head, over and over again.

_Us._

_ Together._

** Wow. Sorry that took so long. Hopefully the next one will be faster. **

**-Kat**


	3. In Which Coffee Becomes Painful

…**also known as 'Draco, Hermione and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.' **

**Or 'In which Bellatrix is mysteriously still alive'. **

**Or 'In which the readers play Spot the Labyrinth reference'. **

**Or 'The author forgot to update the story and is very, very sorry'. Take your pick.**

**Disclaimer: If I had written the Harry Potter books, this would not be called fanfiction. It would just be regular fiction. I own no part of Harry Potter (besides my copy of the books), the characters or their personalities. **

**Barsley, Audrey and the mysteriously unnamed girl (you'll see her later on) are my brain children. Please do not feed them.**

**Warning: More delightful Luna-swearing in this one. Plus lots of perspective changes and Draco is angsty.**

_Draco_

I woke up to a dawn the color of old parchment. The yellowish sky looked diseased. No birds chirped. I got up and went to the window. The well-kept grass and large, elegant garden looked obnoxiously out of place in the scene. I checked the gold and silver clock still leaning against my bedside table. It was 4:03 AM. The sun shouldn't even have been up yet.

A sound like a gunshot startled me. Barsley had Apparated directly into my room.

"Master," he creaked with a low bow. The tips of his large ears brushed the ground.

"What do you want, Barsley?" I asked. _Merlin's beard, that scared me. _"You ought to punish yourself for startling your master."

"Terribly sorry, Master!" Barsley picked up my hideous gold clock and began to beat himself over the head with it. "Bad, bad Barsley! Master was startled!" He beat himself for several minutes. When he had tired himself out, he put the clock down and swept into a low bow.

"Barsley is a bad elf, Master Malfoy," he said quietly with utmost respect.

"You are a well trained elf. Do not let it happen again, am I clear?" I looked at him as sternly as I could while half asleep. Barsley looked up at me, his eyes glistening with gratitude.

"Master Malfoy will not be disappointed!" He said.

"Why did you come here, Barsley?" I asked, slipping out of my stern master tone.

"Your aunt, the Madam Bellatrix is here, Master," Barsley said. His voice was hoarse. "She is waiting for you in the second floor parlor. The Madam gave me a message for you, sir. May I deliver it?" He stayed in his low bow, looking reverently up at me.

"You may. And stand up." _Of course, only Bellatrix would call at such a beastly hour. _

"The Madam told me, 'Tell Draco we have...business to attend to.'" Barsley copied Bellatrix's tone so perfectly, I almost responded the way I would have to her. I caught myself just in time.

"You are dismissed, Barsley." He bowed again and hurried out of the room instead of his usual Disapparation.

_ How do those house elves keep bowing so often? _I wondered. _And what is Aunt Bellatrix's 'business'? It can't be good._ I dressed in my proper wizarding robes (Bellatrix didn't allow Muggle clothing) and combed my hair. I left it loose that day.

Arming myself with my wand, I left the room and hurried to the tea parlor on the second floor. Malfoy Manor had several parlors, each designated for a different purpose. The one on the fourth floor, down the hall from my bedroom, was for signing agreements and contracts. The parlor on the first floor was for entertaining social guests. The parlor on the sixth floor was used for meetings of a violent nature, such as organizing duels. The dueling chamber was three floors down. This forced duelers to walk down the stairs together civilly before attempting to kill each other.

The parlor on the second floor was for family matters only. It was seldom used after the war, once the Death Eaters officially disbanded. Very few people in the family ever used it, as most meetings fit into the categories of social, business or violent.

I walked down the second floor hallway, mentally noting where each door led. I stopped near the end of the hall, in front of a black door carved with ominous looking Celtic symbols. I didn't even pause to look at the symbols. Instead I grasped the silver door handle and felt the familiar warm rush of the spell used to detect pure blood status travel through my body. When it had subsided, I turned the handle and opened the door.

Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting casually by the fireplace, holding a filled cup of tea and reading a small book. A teapot and another cup sat on the small, polished table. The west wall was entirely made of glass, one gigantic window. The dark green curtains were drawn shut. On the opposing wall was hung a portrait of my mother directly after her marriage, age sixteen. Two bookshelves were placed to either side of the fireplace, both crammed with books. The room's white and silver striped wallpaper was tasteful. This had always been my favorite of the parlors in the house.

Bellatrix looked up from her book when I entered. She had aged since I last saw her. The corners of her mouth had tightened, and wrinkles creased the edges of her eyes. A few strands of gray streaked her dark, unruly hair.

"Draco," she said in greeting.

"Aunt Bellatrix, how nice to see you." I kept my tone cool and detached. Though I would never admit it, this woman scared me. I took the chair opposite hers and poured myself a cup of tea. The Japanese tea set was my father's favorite. He used to say he wanted to be buried with the teacups. _Why didn't we bury him with one? _

I sipped my tea. It tasted like a cross between wealth and an old sock. I kept the grimace off my face and continued to sip politely.

"We have business, Draco," Bellatrix said. She abandoned all formality, including the necessary Malfoy silence before any business was conducted.

"And what business would that be?" I asked.

"You have been seen with the _Mudblood_ girl," Bellatrix replied. Rage was barely concealed on her face. She leaned forward in her chair. I suddenly recalled Vera's words to me: _Tell your aunt about the plan._

_Damn, the woman was right._

"I can explain this," I began.

"No explanations!" Bellatrix cut through, her eye twitching.

"It is a-"

"Nothing can excuse this!" Her tone was the hysterical one I had heard her use to taunt her victims before she killed them.

"-Revenge plan," I finished calmly. "A revenge plan suggested by Vera Zabini."

"Vera?" Bellatrix's tone was still hysterical, but her eyes had calmed.

"Yes, I met her at St. Mungo's hospital in America. A very pleasant woman," I took another sip of my tea for dramatic effect.

"A revenge plan, did you say?" Bellatrix leaned back. "Tell me more."

I pulled my wand from the folds of my robes. Bellatrix reached for her own, but stayed her hand when she saw what I was doing.

"Accio revenge plan," I said, slashing my wand through the air. Almost immediately the paper Vera had given me zoomed into the room. It fell into my lap. I put down my cup of tea and waved my wand over the paper. "Vera told me so." I offered the paper to Bellatrix.

Her eyebrows climbed higher and higher as she read. She laughed and handed it back to me. "Yes, that's one of Vera's, alright," she said. "Just her sort of thing. She came up with the most marvelous plans. She was good with potions and poisons too. I do miss her." Bellatrix sipped her tea and grimaced. "Merlin, that's awful." She put it down on the table. I folded the paper and said the words to wipe it blank again.

"Is my explanation satisfactory, Aunt Bellatrix?" I asked.

"Your mother did teach you some manners, Drakey-Wakey," she replied, using my embarrassing childhood nickname. "Yes, your-" she dropped into a mockery of my voice-"explanation is satisfactory." She laughed again. "Call me Auntie Bella, dear. I never could stomach this ridiculous formality. Cissy always insisted on it, though. That, and bad tea. Why does she like this tea so much?"

I recognized that she was rambling off into a memory. I pretended to listen and tried not to fall asleep. _Does she ever shut up?_

"And that's why you should always listen to my stories. Wake up over there!" Bellatrix snapped her fingers in front of my face. "You need some sleep, boy."

"Yes, Auntie Bella." I tried not to roll my eyes like a sullen teenager. She ruffled my hair.

"Oh, you're all grown up now. A regular big man you are." She said in a coddling voice. "My wittle Dwako is awl gwown up!"

_I mustn't fight Bellatrix, I mustn't, I mustn't._ Despite my mental instruction to myself, I pointed my wand at her.

"You're testing me, Auntie Bella." I said coldly. She froze, then giggled like a school girl before looking at the wand resting against her collarbone. Bellatrix gulped.

"Very well, Draco," she said in her former composed tone. "You have passed my test." She smiled at me just a little too wide. It unnerved me. I kept my wand held high.

"Do not treat me like a child." I said quietly.

"I will not."

"Good." I stowed my wand back in my robes.

"Oh, and I'm staying here tonight," Bellatrix said.

"Why?" I asked, much like a child would.

"Oh, business in the area. Nothing interesting," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Then, if you'll excuse me I have other things to attend to today," I said, adopting my formal tone again. I picked up Vera's paper and left the parlor, feeling as though Bellatrix should probably be hospitalized for her mood swings. _And the sadism. But that's not important._ I thought sarcastically. I checked the clock in the hall. It was now 7:30.

_What a waste of a morning._

I was tempted to go back to bed. But a Malfoy rises early, and I was already awake. My mother was already out of the house doing 'business' whatever that might mean and I didn't need to be into work until noon, so I decided to take a walk.

The cool morning air calmed me down and woke me up. I wandered through the woods on the outskirts of town. They were lush woods, filled with ancient trees. The forest was imbued with magic because it was so close to Ottery St. Catchpole. I breathed deeply.

The center of the forest was marked by a frayed and decaying red ribbon tied to the lowest branch of a large tree. Beyond it was the oldest tree in the forest, standing alone in a clearing. The tree had been there longer than anyone could remember. The people of the town treated it with idiotic reverence. While many of the other trees were carved with initials or messages, this tree's bark held no man made mark.

It was burned from lightening, and riddled with bowtruckle holes, and moles dug down into the soil at its roots. The tree's leaves were a coppery color and a few fell down as a sighing wind blew through the clearing.

I moved closer to the tree and leaned against it. I picked up a branch from the ground and took out the knife I always carried. Whittling was a Muggle pastime that I quite enjoyed. I had become quite good at it over the years.

I carved a miniature Bellatrix, leaving the face blank. I filled it in with magic and held it away from me to admire my handiwork. Her expression of ecstatic rage was the one I remembered she had worn during the War. I tapped my wand against the ground next to the tree and a neat, round hole opened in the earth.

Around the walls of the hole were small shelves I had made when I was thirteen. Standing on the shelves were more miniature people. I took inventory of them quickly, more out of habit than fear one had disappeared.

On one side of the hole were the Death Eaters and other thralls of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. On the other was the 'light side'. Standing at the front of the collection of the 'light side' were the three people I hated most. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, miniaturized in wood, were standing confidently at the edge of the shelves.

Though I would never admit it, I was especially proud of the Potter figurine. I had spent a long time detailing the clothing and messy hair just so during the summer after Dumbledore died. Where Weasley and Granger's faces were basic and stared blankly, Potter's was so close to the actual person that I half expected him to come to life and jinx me. It had been my only diversion from the plans of the Death Eaters, which seemed to buzz about my ears like a hive of hornets.

I put Bellatrix in the empty spot I had saved for her on the right of You-Know-Who. She fit there perfectly, as I knew she would. I looked around furtively to make sure no one was watching. When I was sure I was alone I whispered a dusting spell. Instantly all the figures were gleaming and new looking.

"Perfect," I muttered. I closed up the hole and put my wand away. After glancing around once more I settled against the tree and relaxed.

"A fine morning, tree," I said. "Bellatrix interrupted, though. Bitch." Of course, the tree didn't respond. I always felt a bit insane talking to a tree, but no one had ever caught me doing it. I had begun talking to this tree when I was seventeen and the war was in full swing. I had yelled and cursed at it and taken out all my rage on the old elm tree until I couldn't even speak. I fell to the ground in exhaustion and frustration and simply stared up at the branches for hours, thinking. I only went back to the house when it began to rain.

_I'm going to break Hermione Granger's heart, _I thought suddenly. It was a marvelous thought. I began to laugh uncontrollably and silently. _A brokenhearted Mudblood! Granger, Granger, Granger! I'm going to break her heart!_

_Hermione_

I called Luna (and woke her up) as soon as I had finished my coffee. That dream was just too weird to ignore. She had barely hung up when I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was Luna; no one else knocked in a rhythm like that. Tap…tap…taptaptap…tap…tap…taptaptap. I opened the door to Luna, standing in her pajamas.

"You could have put clothes on, it wasn't really that urgent," I told her, closing the door behind her.

"Dreams fade fast. The Nargles eat them up. Tell me everything you remember." Luna was as business-like as she could sound, although she couldn't have been awake for more than five minutes.

"Okay…" I took a deep breath and told her the whole dream, ignoring the lascivious mental shimmies of my libido. Luna didn't even blink.

"The art wall is just a familiar scene. This dream is similar to the last one, but Malfoy was outside the wall with you at first. That tells me that you're thinking about him more. Not a good sign, 'Mione! You can't trust Malfoy, no matter what he says to you. You're starting to believe that he's good on the inside, which is reinforced by the Dark Mark becoming the line from the poem. You can't let him get to you!

"The phrase 'Us, together', sounds like love poetry or a line from a song. Oh, be warned, Malfoy can sing. Watch out for that in future dreams. 'Everybody folds for love', suggests that some part of you wants to give in to him. Don't let it. No matter what that little voice in your head says, _do not let him get closer._"

_Why does she know about that voice? For that matter, why does she know Malfoy can sing?_

"He carved his name into your heart. That's a classic symbol of possessive love. But you carved your name into _his_ heart, too. My guess is that that's meant to represent some form of mutual give and take, like the exchange of wedding rings. You might have been thinking about Harry and Ginny's wedding. However, this is the old trick offered by the fairy tale villain. It can be described as follows-

"'Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.'" Luna paused for breath.

"Note that in this agreement the terms of _your_ slavery are clearly defined. Fear him and love him and do as he says. Whereas the terms of _his_ slavery are simply marked by the word 'slave', which could mean almost anything. In this way you become more pledged to him than he is to you and your heart gets broken." Her expression darkened as she spoke and I wondered what had happened to her to make her give this advice.

"That you didn't feel disturbed by him ripping his heart out…that actually sounds like another of Agatha Reverie's theories. She made the parallel between evil acts and gruesome dreams. Being undisturbed my gruesome dreams reinforces the fact that you're starting to think of him as less evil.

"Here's my conclusion: You're intrigued by the idea of Malfoy, and as much as you deny it some part of you wants to get closer to him. Remember how yesterday I said you should just fuck him and get it over with? Don't do that. I can see now you have too much of an emotional attachment-to the dreams at the very least-to do that safely," she finished. Luna looked at me with her wide, sad eyes and her Care Bear pajamas and I knew she was right.

_No-o-o…._my libido cried silently from wherever it was lurking in my head. _But what about the DREAMS? Can we at least keep those around?_

_No!_ I told it firmly. _Go away._

I went into work for my afternoon shift that day. The coffee shop cheered me up a bit. Audrey smiled her big, Weasley grin at me.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," she remarked. I smiled back.

"Just nightmares," I replied.

"Drink some coffee-it keeps the sleep away!" She winked at me and left, letting the door slam obnoxiously loud behind her. I laughed and put on my apron. Time for another day of work.

_Draco_

There wasn't anything I needed to do at work that day. Assignments were spotty there. It was rare to have something to do for four days in a row. I curtly greeted my coworkers and left again, Apparating to the Café Du Locke where Blaise would probably be waiting. If he wasn't there, I could at least talk to Vanessa.

_Hermione_

The shop wasn't nearly as full as usual, so I spent some time discreetly people watching. I tried to figure out people's names and what they were thinking. The girl in the dark corner with a gigantic mug of coffee and too many piercings? I named her Catherine. She was mentally cursing her parents for restricting her so much. The boy dressed too formally with his hair combed over to the side? He was waiting for his girlfriend, his name was Kurt and he was wondering if his tie was crooked. The short girl muttering to herself in German? Her name was Emma and she was trying to make a large decision in her head.

"Slytherin." I looked blankly at the speaker. "I said, Slytherin. Or are you deaf now, as well as a Mudblood?" I blinked at the insult and my vision came back into focus. It was Malfoy, leaning against the counter with his usual scowl. "Hello? Earth to Granger!" He waved his hand in front of my face. "Not all of us have time to stare, you know."

_Us. Together,_ my brain whispered.

_No,_ I replied. _Not together. He just called me a Mudblood. He's scowling at me now and insulting me._ It was illogical that I couldn't stop looking at his arm, wondering if the Dark Mark was still there. It was illogical that I was trying to mentally describe the color of his eyes. It was illogical that I should be feeling pain in my chest…

"Like what you see?" Malfoy asked, smirking and gesturing to himself. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Granted. Go away, Malfoy, you're holding up the line," I told him impatiently, though there was no line behind him. The Slytherin door opened in the wall. With a wink and a scowl, Malfoy strutted off to the Slytherin room.

_Talk about mixed messages!_ I thought to myself.

_Us…together…_some part of my brain-I had begun to call it the 'Dream 'Mione'-whined

_No._ I reminded it.

_ Oh, c'mon! Let DM dream! You don't want to admit it, but she wants to d-o M-a-l-f-o-y just as much as I do. _My libido (Evil 'Mione) chimed in.

_Will you two shut up! Go play strip poker with Divination Facts or something._ They slinked off to find the small part of my brain devoted to Divination, presumably to play strip poker with it.

The German girl stepped timidly up to the counter. "Hullo," she greeted me quietly. "Um, can you tell me where I can find…" She looked down at a small scrap of paper in her hand. "Draco Malfoy?" I laughed.

"He went through the door that just appeared in the wall over there. Do you want me to take a message for him?" The girl's face brightened visibly.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. You are his girlfriend? I want to give him a message from the Salem Institute," she said quickly.

"Not his girlfriend. Oh, hell no. But I can take the message for him," I told her.

"But if you and he are not dating, why does he talk to you that way?" She asked. My cheeks grew suddenly hot.

"Er, what way? We're not friends at all, actually. I just see him a lot," I replied. The girl smiled nervously. I was suddenly reminded of Luna's expression when she was

about to say something embarrassing.

"Oh, okay. Then I will give you the message. Will you write it down?" She asked in a different tone. I pulled out the small pocket notebook and pen I kept with me at all times.

"Right. What's the message?"

"The message is this: 'The Juno girls liked your entrance before, and got a lot more severe taunting the Hestia students. It's become a real problem We need you to come in and fix that. Just talk to the seventh year Juno girls, please. Reply with the date you can do it. Regards, Professor Alxemia, potions master for the Salem Witches' Institute.'" The German girl talked almost as fast as I could write, but I got the message down. I tore the piece of paper off the pad and shoved both into my pocket.

"I'll give him the message," I assured her.

"Thank you!" She ducked her head and left the café, closing the door gently behind her.

_Draco_

All I could think as I stepped into the Slytherin section of the Café was _Mission: Failed. I screwed that one up. Damn. Damn. Damn._

I bought a coffee from a squat girl with dull gray eyes. Vanessa was off sick. Blaise was not at our usual table, though why I had expected him to be I don't know. I went to the table any way, stepping around the stools that dotted the floor in an unruly maze. It was the kind of day where everything looked darker than it was and you could never drink enough coffee to wake up properly.

I didn't even get to drink my coffee. I tripped on one of the stools and spilled the hot liquid all over my shoes.

"Hell's bells!" I yelped, dropping my coffee cup. I looked around the room to see everyone staring. My cheeks flamed.

_Calm, Draco. It's coffee. It's just coffee. It doesn't matter._ I quickly gave up on calming myself. _This is NOT a good day._

**Special thanks to my reviewer, 3Draco123, who reminded me that I started writing this story and at least one person is waiting to read it. 3Draco123 (may I call you 3?), a special message to you: I really suck, don't I? I totally forgot about this story and kept you waiting for a month! *Dramatically breaks down into tears*. And the worst part is…this isn't even the end of the story yet. **

**The mysteriously unnamed German girl, Dream 'Mione and Professor Alxemia will all be making reappearances. **

**Did you find my blatant reference to the 80s movie Labyrinth? **

**Oh, and thanks to HachimansKitsune (speaking of Labyrinth references) for giving me that 'talking to your libido idea'. If you're reading this, I'm a big fan.  
>I solemnly swear that I, Katrina Lonestar, will not make you wait a month for the next chapter. Even if I have play rehearsals for the next two months or so.<br>I love you both, my small following!**

**-Kat**


	4. Emma, Robert and the Mysterious J

…**Also known as 'The author jumps outside the series she's writing about'.**

**Disclaimer: Do you really think the author of the Harry Potter series would be writing fanfiction about it? Actually, that would be awesome. But she doesn't. I am not J.K. Rowling. Nor do I own any part of Jim Henson's brilliant movie Labyrinth. Although I do write fanfiction about it. Blatantly self advertising? Me?**

**Robert, Katie's boy and Professor Alxemia are all my brain children. Poking them with sticks is frowned upon.**

**Warning: Dramatic Hermione back story. Don't hate me for bullying Ron.**

_ Hermione_

For once my dreams did not haunt me. Instead I woke up refreshed and, despite Evil 'Mione's whining, happy. Whistling a jaunty tune, I picked out casual clothes for the day and looked at my planner.

**Visit the Burrow **was marked for today. I brushed out my hair and smiled brightly at the mirror in the bathroom.

"We're off to see the Wizard," I sang, laughing at the irony. "The wonderful Wizard of Oz - or the Burrow, anyway!" It was a rare day when I woke up happy. Usually it took at least two cups of coffee and some music to get me into a decent mood. But today was a day to celebrate! Harry and Ginny wanted me to come over to discuss wedding plans. Luna, Cho, Padma and Parvati, Angelina and Katie would also be there, since they were all bridesmaids as well. And I would be seeing the Weasleys again. I loved their busy, loud house. It was so different from my quiet little apartment or my parents' house with just the three of us. I brushed my teeth, put on my cloak and went out the door. No sense in Apparating when they were only a few miles outside of town.

When I got to the Burrow, I stopped outside the door. Inside I heard the usual sounds of loud arguing, laughter and Celestina Warbeck. I raised a hand to knock on the door, but Mrs. Weasley opened the door before I could.

"Hermione, dear, come in! How are you? Ginny's just so excited. Are you hungry?" I shook my head and grinned at her. She closed the door behind me and bustled over to turn the radio up. Everyone looked up when I walked into the busy kitchen. I looked around at all of my friends. George was leaning against the counter, drinking a cup of amber liquid. I resisted the urge to wince when I saw the dark hole where his ear used to be. The absence of Fred was another painful reminder of the war. I blinked once, hard. Angelina was standing by the stove next to George. The girl was a few years older than me, but we had always gotten along reasonably well. She smiled at me when she saw me looking at her. Sitting at the large, scratched up kitchen table was Luna in her Muggle clothing, black overalls and a bright green T-shirt, her hair pulled up into pigtails. She had left the radish earrings at home, but her appearance was strange anyway. The Muggle clothing she was wearing stood out in the room full of wizard's robes.

Next to Luna was Cho, looking mildly uncomfortable in the Burrow's kitchen. Harry's old girlfriend was radiant as ever, although her hair was cut in a strange pixie do. Sitting together next to them was the twins, Parvati and Padma Patil. The girls were dressed identically, right down to the long black braid that went down each of their backs. Padma was whispering something in Parvati's ear. Katie Bell, the oldest out of any of us by a month, was sitting on a stack of boxes in the corner with a blonde boy I didn't recognize.

"Hey, 'Mione," she mumbled. A long white scar stretched across her face, permanently pulling half her mouth into a scowl. Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured Katie in Malfoy Manor before I was during the war, and since then she had never been quite the same. A shadow of Bellatrix always lingered in her glassy green eyes. The boy next to her had an eyepatch over his eye and I guessed he had been injured in the war as well.

I shivered suddenly. My adopted family was broken and scratched. We had mostly survived, but the fabric of our happiness was torn. It could never really be perfect again, no matter how we tried to patch it.

"Oh, morning, Hermione." Ron Weasley shuffled down the stairs. His hair was messy the way it always was. I remembered when I thought that was cute. Now it just seemed annoying.

"Hello, Ronald." If he was going to be formal and call me 'Hermione', I was going to do the same to him. He leaned awkwardly next to George. The difference between them was apparent. Where George's clothes were neat and clean, Ron's shirt was stained and his pants showed too much ankle. George had brushed his hair. George was wearing matching socks.

"Okay, now that we're all here, let's get started!" Ginny clapped her hands to break the awkward tension between Ron and I. I looked at her. Anything to avoid looking at my old boyfriend. Ginny was saying something, but I couldn't tell what. I felt kind of numb. Harry put his arm around Ginny's shoulders and smiled at her. The pang of loneliness I had felt before in the coffee shop hit me again. I kept my face pinned into a smile.

_I miss Ron,_ part of me whispered.

_ No, you miss having someone to be with. Not Ron. _I corrected it. _We don't like Ron anymore, remember?_

It was after the war that we broke up. I remembered it as if it had happened the day before.

_The ruins of Hogwarts were slowly being pieced back together into the castle I remembered. Ron and I were fixing part of it together. It was hard to believe the war was really over. I couldn't help but look over at Ron every few moments, glad he was alive, glad he was with me, glad he was mine. My thought streams were a single word, and that word, that glorious word was Ron._

_ A little apartment was what I wanted. Ron wanted me to move in at the Burrow. There were reasons I couldn't do that, and all of them started with 'F'. I didn't want to think about my short lived, rocky relationship with the older Weasley, especially not when Ron was with me, and living upstairs from him would be way too weird. Ron and I fought about it. In the end, I won, and I bought a little apartment near my mother's house. He visited every day, and we were happy three months after the war._

_ Of course it was going to end badly. We fought and fought and fought about everything, no matter how small. _

_ "FUCK YOU, Hermione!" He yelled. May 14, our anniversary. It was his fourteenth swear today, as opposed to my twentieth. That meant he needed to curse me six more times to catch up. It also meant our relationship had been reduced to simple addition, and my dreams of multiplication and having children of my own were dead. _

_ We stayed together for a while anyway, because we didn't know any better. We drifted into awkward silence broken by painful glares and lots of snogging. He talked to his friends on the phone more and more, came home later and was nearly always drunk. _

_ I went to Lavender Brown's for a visit while Ron was supposed to be out of town. _

_I found the living room empty and the bedroom - the bed - full. Ron and Lavender. Wide eyed I stared at the mess my life had become. I hated him. I hated her. I hated myself. "I get it," I whispered. "You choose her." For a heartbeat, we were silent._

"_Oppugno!" I chased him home with birds and curses, tears burning in my eyes. I would not let the tears fall. Not yet._

_The next day he came in from work with a bouquet of red roses, my favorite flower. I wanted desperately to accept them and forget everything. Why not? He was Ron. He was supposed to be my soul mate._

_ "Give them to Lavender. I. Don't. Want. Them," I told him._

_ "'Mione, please-"_

" _Go give your stinking roses to your stinking whore, pig!" The argument raged full force after that, and I shouted at him until I could barely speak. When both of us had screamed ourselves hoarse, I looked at him in the silence that followed._

"_My god, we're broken, aren't we?" _

_ Just like that the door slammed behind him, and everything collapsed in on itself in my mind. I didn't want him here. I didn't want him gone. When he called the next week I hung up. I ate tons of ice cream. I did nothing but cry for days. My thoughts died down to a single word, and that word wasn't Ron anymore. It was 'no'. _

And here we were, in this moment, the silence we were so accustomed to filled with Ginny's chatter, our glares drowned out by a dozen other distracting objects, my still mending heart throbbing in my chest.

_Draco Malfoy is carved into my heart._

_No!_ I screamed inside my head. _No, I will not let anyone else into my life! I won't let it happen again. _

"And I want all the bridesmaids to come to Twilfit and Tatting's on Wednesday to try out dresses," Ginny interrupted my thoughts with another clap. "Okay, that's all." In a current of amiable chatter we left, Katie's blonde boy limping behind. All the remaining vestiges of my good mood were gone.

_I won't let it happen again._

_Draco_

Morning came too fast, and dawn woke me in a daze of dark dreams. I woke up in a fighting mood. I wanted to _kill_ something today, or at least maim it. But the war was over, and killing Muggles was a sure way to get myself a one way ticket to Azkaban. The Malfoy credentials that had gotten us safely through the war could only do so much. So I sighed and got up. Another normal day.

I walked to work that day. No sense in wasting a murderous mood. May as well use it for exercise. It was a beautifully clear autumn day, the kind that made you want to spin in circles and climb trees. Not that I ever would, that's preposterous.

There was a job for me today. I picked up my clipboard and read the items, written in a spidery handwriting in green ink.

_Newt eyes-Salem Witches' Institute, Salem, MA, USA_

_ Candles-Circle Rites Goodie Shop, Cheshire, VT, USA_

_ Witches' Robes, size 7-12-Senora Malkin's, Brazil_

I left the building, ignoring the greeting from Smith on my way out. With a quick turn I willed myself into the airless tube between places. _Determination, Deliberation, Destination. I really hate Apparition._ When I felt the air return I took a deep gulp of oxygen and broke out in a fit of coughing. I recovered quickly and looked around.

I had overshot a bit and ended up near a farm with a big white house. A quick whispered "point me" spell told me that I was in Salem, but half a mile south of the Institute. I sighed. _Guess I'll have to walk._

I had nothing against walking. It invigorated me and besides, Salem was a pretty place. Although if Bellatrix ever knew I preferred a Muggle way of transportation, she would murder me. Literally.

The Salem Witches' Institute was immediately identifiable by the strong smell of magical perfume that floated out the large open windows. _How do they keep this place hidden with that smell?_

I made my way up to Professor Alxemia's classroom with my magical black bag and flung open the door. Large amounts of purple smoke billowed out into my face, smelling of burnt sugar. I coughed and waved it away, venturing deeper into the classroom.

"Oh, here you are, Malfoy! I was beginning to wonder if Emma had gone astray. She's usually quite good with tracking people down, but we all make mistakes, you know." The Potions Mistress emerged from the smoke, patting her slightly singed ringlets into place. _Who's Emma? _"Sending an owl before you came would have been better, but that's okay. Once we clean up the amortentia you can do your piece."

"Pardon me…what?" I asked. "I just came to deliver your shipment of newt eyes." I gestured to my bag. Alxemia looked puzzled.

"Oh, my. Then I suppose Emma didn't find you…" She trailed off. After a moment her face brightened again. "Do you have time to stay and talk to my Juno girls next period?" She asked. I considered it. I had two more deliveries to make today, not to mention the Granger plan and the fact that Bellatrix was in town and probably wanted me to come to tea with her again that afternoon or something. I slowly shook my head.

"My apologies, madam. I haven't got the time today," I told her as politely as I could. A Malfoy is always courteous, especially to females. _Damned misogynistic Malfoy code._ She bobbed her head, the smile affixed to her face.

"Alright then. I'm sure Emma will give you the note soon – it's from me. Owl me when you get it," she said. The witch winked and bustled over to her students, tapping her wand on their cauldrons to clean up the spilled and burnt potions that dripped all over the room. _She's too soft. Snape would have made us clean it up ourselves, and probably drink it if we couldn't clean fast enough._ I grimaced at the memory, the phantom taste of badly brewed Pepper Up Potion staining my tongue. I put the box of newt eyes down on her desk and left the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind me.

Next was Cheshire, a small town in Vermont that I had dealt with several times. I Apparated to the Circle Rites shop and went in, enjoying the sound of the tinkling bell on the door.

" 'Lo, Draco." A tall man with tawny hair that stuck up like a lion's mane greeted me. _How does he do that with his hair?_ No matter how hard I tried or what spells I used, I could never get my hair into that style. His British accent hadn't gone away, even though he had lived in America for five years.

"Hey, Jare-"

"Don't say the name!" He interrupted me. I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "No one's saying my name this week. Although…" His lips quirked up into a cruel smirk that was possibly even more charming and dangerous than mine. "By next week they'll be _screaming_ it." His laugh could have made Bellatrix look like a Hufflepuff. It was also strangely seductive…_whoa there, Draco._ I shook my head a bit to clear the thoughts out. "Just call me 'J' instead," he suggested.

"Er, okay. I have your candles," I said. I pulled the box out of my bag and held it out to him. J reached out one gloved hand and took the heavy box effortlessly, placing it behind the counter. He dropped some money into my palm- unlike large companies and schools, the Circle Rites Shop paid directly. I counted the money. J was a notorious cheat, and was so charming he usually got away with it. It was the right amount, but he had slipped a small metal pendant into the coins. I looked up at him in confusion.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's called a triskelle. It's a protection amulet, essentially. Not the phony kind they hawk on Knock Turn Alley," he added quickly, seeing I was about to protest. "This is _old_ magic, as old as evil itself. It's something for a lady. The full moon is next week and if I know my magical creatures – and I do – it's certainly not a time to be out without some kind of protection." J's gaze bored into mind suddenly and he had read my mind before I could block him out. "Give it to the Granger girl…she looks too familiar to be safe." He glanced at the picture on the shelf next to the counter, crammed beside all the junk they sold here, charmed cigarettes and books on Dark magic and silver knives like Bellatrix used. The picture was of a girl with long brown hair and a wide, intelligent gaze. Her face was rounder than Granger's and her hair was straight, but the resemblance was definitely there. J sighed, suddenly melancholy.

"Who is she?" I asked. "You look at that picture all the time, but you never tell anyone why." J looked at me with a small smile. I couldn't tell if he was amused or about to hex me into oblivion.

"Her name is Sarah. I look at that picture all the time for the same reason you're pursuing Granger," he said flatly.

"Revenge?"

J laughed, making my blood run cold. _He was a villain in a past life, I'm sure of it. How the hell does he do that?_ "Revenge, love, because I can, who knows? What matters is that she's mine. I'll get her in the end," he said. _Love?_ "Yes, love," J answered and I realized I had spoken out loud. "As much as I hate to admit it. Damn woman got the best of me."

This was confusing. Revenge I could understand. Hatred I could understand. But affection tangled in revenge, love so close to hatred the difference was imperceptible? I knew nothing of this.

J evidently noticed my confusion. "Haven't you ever hated something so much that you _had_ to destroy it or it would rip you apart?" He asked. I nodded. This I had felt, this I could understand. "And…ah, it's hard to explain. Explaining the concept of _love_ doesn't make much sense. Where I come from it's not a commonly used word." I realized I had absolutely no idea where J was from. He had never told me. I didn't bother trying to tell him I didn't need him to explain love to me. J wouldn't listen to something like that.

"Perhaps, do you know the feeling of humiliation? Being defeated when you least expected it?" J asked.

The memory of Granger's stiletto heels hitting me flashed in my mind. I nodded viciously. That I could definitely understand.

J kept talking, a steady flow of neutral words, as casual as if he were talking about the weather. "And the memory haunts you every night, and it won't let you sleep and you _know_ that the person who did this to you has to learn their lesson? You can't stop thinking about it. You can't stop hating them. You just can't stop." He was more talking to himself now than he was to me. His voice began to waver. _Is he okay? J never shows emotion like this…_"In the end you know that they owe you something, they owe you your pride back…and there's nothing you can do but _take_ your pride back from them, because really what else is there to do? Is there any other choice at the end of the day?"

J looked at me, his strange mismatched eyes clouded over in some faraway dream. I nodded again, slowly. _How is that love? Love of revenge, maybe. Wounded pride. Not real love, though._

"At the beginning, I loved her. And at the beginning I believe she loved me," he said quietly. I could sense there was a story here, and suddenly I desperately wanted to hear it.

"What…what happened?" I asked. Some part of my mind was telling me that I had another delivery to do and Operation Granger Heartbreak hadn't progressed at all, but the rest of me needed to know the story.

"It doesn't have a happy ending," he warned me.

"That's okay. You can tell it anyway…only if you want to, I mean," I said awkwardly. J ran a hand through his hair, the black leather gloves he wore shining in dark contrast to his blonde locks.

"Give the triskelle to Granger. Finish your mission and see it through to the end. Then I'll tell you," he said. _I'm not getting any more answers out of him today,_ I realized. J smiled at me, less cruelly this time. "Good luck." I had been dismissed, as if I were in the court of a king.

I walked out, clutching the metal charm in my hand, letting the edge bite into my palm. The pain felt somehow good, but when I licked away the blood, my skin tasted bitter.

_Hermione_

It was Sunday, so I didn't have work that day. I wandered down to my favorite bookshop in Ottery St. Catchpole to pick out something new to read. The fantastic thing about Cozy's was that they let you stay in the shop for as long as you wanted without buying anything. I sometimes sat in there reading for hours, passing the time on dull days.

"Hi, Hermione!" The boy shelving books greeted me brightly from atop his ladder when I walked in. His shaggy brown hair fell gracefully over one eye. The boy was a few years younger than I was and we had gotten to know each other on the slow days in the shop.

"Hello, Robert. Anything new in today?" I asked, the way I did every week when I was there. The boy yanked a book down from the shelf and tossed it to me. I missed it and had to pick the book up from the floor. It was a small, red book that was in decent condition. I could tell it had been well used, though.

"This one's actually a play," Robert informed me. "An American girl brought it in yesterday, told me it was 'haunting her'. Robert made air quotes with his hands and nearly fell off the ladder.

"Careful!" I yelped. He grinned amiably at me. One of his front teeth was chipped.

"No worries, Hermione. I'm okay," he assured me. Robert laughed at my expression. "Anyway, this girl from the U.S. came in and told me the book was haunting her. It had an owl feather marking a page in it, too. Barn owl, if I'm not mistaken. I don't know why she wouldn't want to keep a nice feather like that, but then again a play was haunting her, so…" He shrugged. "The play doesn't have any enchantments on it, either. I think she was just crazy." 

"Thanks!" I took the book to my favorite reading chair and began to flip through it. It was almost a children's tale, although I certainly wouldn't have read it as a bedtime story for a kid. I became absorbed in the book and was only interrupted by the alarm on my watch ringing a few hours later. It went off at 5 PM every day to remind me when to eat dinner. Often I forgot without an alarm. After the third week of forgetting to eat dinner and binging at breakfast, I finally just set my watch to go off.

"Oh, bog," I muttered, book marking my page. _Do I really need to eat right now?_ I didn't _feel_ hungry. I shrugged and went back to reading. Food could wait for now.

**Sarah: It's not fair!**

**Villain (_smirking)_: You say that so often-**

The bell on the door jingled.

"Evening, sir," Sandra, the girl working behind the counter said.

"Good evening," an all too familiar voice replied.

_Draco Malfoy._

**Does this officially count as a crossover now?**

**For those of you not catching my obvious references, there are multiple blatant references to the 80s movie Labyrinth in this chapter. I suggest you go watch it, then re read this chapter to better understand Draco's conversations with the mysterious J. That would be a fantastic title for a cult film or an indie album. **

_**Draco's Conversations With the Mysterious J, starring Hermione, Draco and J himself! Watch a tale of romance, betrayal and coffee unfold in the sleepy town of Ottery St. Catchpole. Will Draco ever get his revenge? Will that play haunt Hermione? Will J ever let us say his real name? Find out- Coming to a theater near you.**_

_**Draco's Conversations With the Mysterious J, the fourth album of Child **_

_**Sacrifice. Hear the true account of J's fall set to a delicious backdrop of screaming guitar and the ever-talented Hermione Granger on the bass! That's right, for the first time ever J himself has stepped forwards to tell the tale. Draco will ask the important questions – can one find love again when it has been lost? Will both of their revenge plans work? Will hearts be broken in the end?**_

_** One thing is for sure: At the end of the album, you'll know for sure where you **_

_**stand on the issue of the King and his Champion, as well as the more relevant case of the Ferret and the Mudblood. **_

** Why yes, I am insane. Thank you for asking. **

** The talk about triskelles and the full moon alludes to The Thirteenth Rider, a story by HachimansKitsune that you can find on this website. You don't have to read it, as the triskelle was really just a passing reference.**

** Also, I know I've been really slow updating. I'm not going to justify that with anything because I hate it when authors try to do that. **

**The problem here is mainly that I know exactly where this story is going, but I don't know how to get there. My car got sucked into a tornado in the middle of this crazy road trip and we all ended up in Oz.**

** I'll give 50 points and my eternal love if you can leave a review with the source of that reference. **

** Please review! It stops me from dying a slow, painful death due to lack of words or something.**

** Love you both, my small fanbase!**

** -Kat**


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